


Solo Rising

by Aaveena



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All aboard!, Ben Solo Deserved Better, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo Pain Train, Ben Solo is a Mess, Ben's not dead, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Force Ghost Shenanigans, Fun Times with Finn and Poe and Rey, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Ben Solo, POV Rey (Star Wars), Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rey & Finn are Platonic Soulmates, Rey Needs A Hug, space adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaveena/pseuds/Aaveena
Summary: It's been just over a year since the battle of Exegol, just over a year since the Resistance won the war, just over a year since Rey lost him. Ben Solo died on Exegol, giving his life to bring her back from the other side, but the bond did not die with him. Rey can still feel it inside of her, searching desperately for it's other half. Interested in learning how to close the bond for good and find some peace, Rey calls on the past Jedi for help, but learns that Ben may not actually be gone. She makes it her mission to bring Ben back from the other side, no matter what.On the other side of time and space, Ben Solo wakes up without any idea of where he is. Bombarded with visions and memories of his past, he must find a way to escape and either move on to become one with the Force, or go back to face a galaxy he helped to destroy.
Relationships: Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey, Poe Dameron & Finn & Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, my heart and soul as destroyed when Ben died at the end of The Rise of Skywalker. In the weeks after my second viewing of the film, I realized that while we see Ben's body fade at the end, since we do not see his Force ghost his fate is left a little more open-ended than it would have been otherwise. I began to ask myself how I would bring him back if given the opportunity via a film or, more preferably, a seasons-long arc of a television show a-la the Clone Wars. A girl can dream, right? Haha! 😂
> 
> I've had such a blast writing this, I hope you enjoy! 😊

Ben Solo awoke lying flat on his back, gasping for air. He was not on Exegol, Rey was not kneeling over him, though he was still wearing the loose black tunic and trousers he had rushed into Exegol in. He was alone, but all was not quiet. Thousands of voices whispered in the air surrounding him, though he could not make out the words. When he stood, he did so slowly, expecting to be exhausted or in pain, though he was neither. He felt as well as he ever had.

He grasped at his body desperately with both hands, trying to discern if he was real, if he was corporeal. He felt warm, he had a pulse, he felt – _alive_. Ben had assumed he would become one with the force when he had given his life to save Rey, is this what it was like?

He took in his surroundings. A deep black emptiness expanded all around him. There was no discernible floor or ceiling in the space he was in, the void stretched on and on into forever.

“Hello?” He called out tentatively, feeling immediately stupid for having done so. Who did he think would answer him, the Force? He felt a sudden tug at something inside of him, something familiar but faint. He tried to hold the feeling, to strengthen it, but it slipped from him like water through his fingers. The echo of his voice surrounded him, and something else surged through him, this feeling just as familiar as the last, though far less pleasant – loneliness.

* * *

Rey’s head perked up instantly. She was sure she had heard something, a voice calling out, it’s tone horribly and achingly familiar. She had heard the voices of the past Jedi on Exegol, but this was different. Those voices had been encouraging her, filling her with hope and their power, their words had held so much meaning, but this… a simple _Hello?_ It was someone testing the waters, dipping a toe in quickly before pulling back, and more than that, it was _his_ voice. She knew that instinctively like she knew how to breath.

She had wondered why she had not seen Ben’s ghost with Luke and Leia on Tatooine when she had buried their lightsabers. A small, traitorous part of her had hoped it meant something, that he was alive somehow, somewhere – but she had watched him fade before her, she had seen the light leave his eyes, she had felt their bond sever, ripping away a piece of her as it did. No, he was gone. It had been well over a year now; he was gone, and he was never coming back. It hurt to think that, yes, but not as much as it did to hope.

Rey had always known pain. On Jakku it took the form of heatstroke, broken limbs, blistered hands, hunger, the terrible ache of loneliness, and of hope. Hope was a pain Rey knew all too well, and one that was not easily cured. She had a horrible habit of holding out hope for people who could never come back, longing for them despite the impossibility of their return. She threw her head back onto her cot, her hands whipping up to her face. How, after everything, could she still be that foolish, hopeful little scavenger carving tallies on the wall?

Rey sighed into the darkness. Silvery moonlight shone in through one of the small windows on her hut, illuminating only a small piece of stony wall. No, she would not allow herself to feel like this, not any longer. She sat up, crossing her legs under her on the cot and closed her eyes. She called to the Force, asking it to fill her with its peace and serenity. A coolness flowed through her, like water pouring into a glass. She smothered the feelings inside of her, that was what it meant to be a Jedi, wasn’t it?

 _There is no emotion, there is peace_.

She willed that to be true, and for a moment it was. Unfortunately, peace, for Rey it would seem, was unsustainable. She was adrift mentally and emotionally, her heartbreak returning anew nearly every day. At night she dreamed of waking to find him holding her in his arms, his eyes brimming with tears and relief. She dreamed of their kiss, fervent and hungry. She dreamed of his smile, sweet and crooked and private – and then it faded, just as he did, the force splitting them in two just as cruelly as it had brought them together.

When her bond with Ben had been severed it did not leave her. She could feel it now, like a string that was tied to her soul whipping violently in the currents of the Force, desperately trying to tether itself to something that was no longer there, frantically searching for its mate. It was painful, so she called on the Force to suppress it often, to dull the sensation. Every now and again she would feel it pull taut, as though it had found purchase somehow. She had felt that earlier just before the ‘ _Hello’_ , but inevitably it would slacken and begin its horrible dance again.

Rey knew that she would not be sleeping tonight, no more than she was able to any other night. Every time she closed her eyes and tried to give way to sleep, she was back _there,_ surrounded by blue lightning, blue lightsabers and blue light. He was always there too, the rotting corpse that called itself her grandfather, cackling horribly as Ben faded from her, as she was left totally and completely alone.

Meditation would have to do, though she did find it harder and harder to meditate with the maelstrom of emotions whirling through her constantly. She breathed deeply. She _needed_ to be strong. Strong for Finn, strong for the future of the Jedi, strong for _herself_. Her mind mercifully cleared with her next exhale and she dove headfirst into the peace of nothingness.

* * *

Ben saw a light in the distance, just a pinprick, like a distant star. He was sure that it had not been there just a moment ago. He began to walk towards it, seeing nothing else to do besides stand in the darkness alone forever. As he walked the whispering around him grew more intense. He still could not make out anything, it was like a wave of sound crashing over his head continuously.

The speck of light grew in size far too quickly, as though Ben were rushing at it at lightspeed. He had hardly walked a few minutes when he found himself in front of a rounded doorway, or, perhaps, a portal. The doorway was filled with an intense white light that rippled like water within its frame. It was surrounded by ancient runes that Ben could not decipher and did not recognize despite his intense study of ancient languages and symbols.

The doorway called to Ben, it’s voice so familiar and soothing. It wanted him to step through, he knew that. An unexplained fear clutched his chest, but he would not allow himself to be ruled by fear – never again. He stepped through the doorway.

On the other side, Ben found himself in a small hut made of smoothed stone or, maybe it was hardened mud, it was difficult to tell in the dim lighting. The hut was compromised of just one room, and Ben could only stand to his full height in the very center of the rounded structure. Daylight poured in from a single window over the small, hard-looking cot. It was cool in the hut, but he could feel the oppressive heat outside radiating around the building, threatening to cook every living thing alive.

Ben stepped outside through the doorway which was blocked only by a tattered piece of fabric. He was blinded by the sun and miles upon miles of sand. The dunes looked like they went on forever, and perhaps they did – there were many desert planets in the galaxy that were completely covered in sand and stone.

Ben’s hut seemed to be on the outskirts of a small village. Other huts of varying sizes were clustered close to his, all centering around a structure which Ben believed to be a vaporator. Luke had told Ben about his time living on a moisture farm back on Tatooine, but Ben had never seen the technology in person.

He looked down at himself, he was wearing brown and tan desert garb, loose-fitting and breathable. He was not sure how, but he was thankful to not be wearing black in this heat.

The people of the village busied themselves with daily chores, all of them wearing the same brown robes he now had on. Was this the afterlife? He wondered. An old woman, her face tanned and wrinkled by both the sun and age, handed him an empty basket. She smiled at him warmly, revealing a mouth devoid of teeth.

“There’s much work to do,” She said, her voice as dry and raspy as the wind over the dunes, and then she turned and left him. He held the basket in his hands awkwardly, puzzled by the interaction. What was he meant to do?

As it turned out, there _was_ much work that needed to be done. He helped the villagers catch and prepare food which they all shared communally. He helped with repairs to various homes and structures. Everyone treated him gently and with kindness and no one seemed perplexed at the mysterious appearance of the tall, dark stranger. Instead, Ben was treated as though he had lived there his entire life.

It was strange, this place did feel vaguely familiar, like he had seen it in a dream or perhaps visited briefly with Luke during their travels. As days passed Ben began to wonder if this was the afterlife at all or if it was just… _life_? He did not feel dead, and while his appearance and acceptance into the community was strange and unexplainable, it all felt very real. Had he been given a second chance? His heart sunk at the idea. Did he deserve one?

After about a week in the village, Ben reached out through the force, searching for Rey. He did feel her, but the sensation was dulled for whatever reason. For the briefest moment he considered stealing away to the closest town and taking a ship, following the connection to find her, but he let the idea go. If he was alive, perhaps it was best that he stayed here. He would only complicate her life, he knew that. Perhaps he was sent here to atone for his sins. The people that lived in this village seemed to worship the Force in a religious way, not unlike the Jedi. They eschewed all technology in order to feel closer to the force – all technology but the vaporator, which was very necessary to life out in the desert.

Ben felt peace, he felt almost happy, a strange sensation for him to say the least. He knew that he didn’t deserve it, but he would make the best of this second chance he had been given, if that was really the case. He could devote his life to the Force, try to do some good in the world, even if it was only in helping this small community.

Eleven days after Ben’s arrival he was awoken in the middle of the night to a loud commotion outside. Ben was on his feet in an instant. People were shouting and he could hear what sounded like blaster fire. Suddenly, a figure clad in white plastoid-composite body armor ripped down the thin fabric of Ben’s door and fired a shot directly at Ben’s chest.

Ben stopped the blast with the Force, turning it back around at the intruder who fell to the ground outside in a heap. Ben stared at the man for far too long. He was wearing stormtrooper armor – First Order stormtrooper armor. Ice cold fear seized Ben’s heart.

Surely the First Order was no more, the Resistance had beaten them in the end, hadn’t they? Had they? Ben had died within the temple of the Sith Eternal. It had seemed like the battle was won, but to be fair, he had been paying very little attention to anything but Rey.

Ben scooped the balster off of the ground filled with new resolve. He knew now why the Force had brought him back. He had to end the First Order, he had to fix his mistakes, restore order to the galaxy and finish what his mother had started.

He dashed outside, the sand shifting wildly under his feet. The desert nights were cold, but he was hardly thinking of that now. Half of the village was on fire. The ground was littered with brown-robed bodies. A pang of guilt stabbed Ben’s stomach. He began firing at every white-armored stormtrooper he saw. He did not have a lightsaber, of course, but he easily dodged or halted all of the blaster-fire that came his way.

Then he heard something sickening familiar behind him, he turned slowly and saw it, terror raging inside of him like a wild animal. The black _Upsilon_ -class command shuttle had just landed on the sand at the edge of the village. An old man in a brown coat was brought to his knees just outside of the shuttle. Ben could not see his face, but he knew who it was, he finally knew _where_ he was. His entire body was trembling, the blaster falling from his hands.

“Tuanul,” Ben whispered, his voice wavering. He was brought to his knees by a wave of nausea. He had been here; he knew what was about to happen. “No,”

Ben sat frozen watching as the command shuttle’s entry bay opened and the masked figure clad all in black strode down the walkway to stand in front of Lor San Tekka. It was only when Kylo Ren ignited his lightsaber, the blade screaming to life and flickering with the unstable power of a cracked kyber crystal that Ben stood.

“NO!” Ben screamed, his voice cracking, wracked with a mixture of fear, guilt, and confusion. He was too late to stop Kylo’s blade from swinging and ending Lor San Tekka’s life.

Ben scooped the blaster off of the ground and fired at Kylo who, of course, stopped the blaster-bolt in midair. The two stood still like that for a long moment. Ben, his arm outstretched, blaster in hand. Kylo Ren’s arm was also outstretched, his hand open and frozen just like the blaster-fire between them. Kylo’s head cocked to the side strangely, Ben wondered if it was in recognition.

With a flick of Kylo’s wrist the frozen blaster-fire shot back in Ben’s direction. Ben tucked into a roll, dodging it easily. When he returned to his feet, he saw that Kylo was marching toward him, his blade outstretched. Ben reeled back, Kylo’s quick and determined gait all too familiar.

Ben raised his blaster yet again, knowing full well that it would do him little good, but found that he was no longer holding a blaster. Instead, clasped in his right hand was the familiar silver hilt of his old lightsaber, exactly how it had looked before he had modified it to compensate for the cracked kyber crystal. He flicked it on, and the blue blade sang to life.

Ben waited back, allowing Kylo to approach. He knew that the best strategy was to allow Kylo to make the first move. Kylo raised his lightsaber above his head and charged. Ben imagined for a moment the man behind the mask, his face, twisted in rage and anger and confusion, most likely. Ben blocked the swing with his own lightsaber, the red blade crackling against the blue in a terrible explosion of light and sound.

They fought in a flurry, Kylo swinging and Ben blocking. There were some advantages to fighting yourself, he knew every move Kylo would make before he made it, and this was only enhanced with help from the Force. As it turned out, these were also the _disadvantages_ to fighting yourself. Ben realized after some time that they were too evenly matched. They could be fighting here forever.

Kylo swung around from the right. Ben, knowing that he could not reliably block the swing from this angle, ducked and dodged the blade, rolling a few feet back. Kylo roared in rage. Ben was reminded, sickeningly, of his fight against Luke’s force projection. He had been all rage and passion then too, but also pain and fear. Ben imagined that was what Kylo was feeling now, seeing a ghost from both his past and, unknowingly, his future.

Kylo charged again. Ben, who was not quite back on his feet, dodged from an unnatural angle, his blue blade sliding up to meet Kylo’s cross-guard. Kylo’s blade was uncomfortably close to Ben’s face. He could feel the heat radiating from it, he could hear its horrible scream so close to his ear. Ben channeled the Force and pushed Kylo back. Ben, finally back to his feet, squared himself in a defensive position.

Kylo, his chest heaving, began circling Ben. Ben, his lightsaber poised in between them, followed Kylo around the circle. Ben did not move, he knew what Kylo was doing, circling Ben like a predator, he knew because he had done it.

“You’re not going to take a swing at me?” Kylo said, his voice even deeper than natural and distorted by the voice modulator in the helmet. “You’re quite the Jedi.” He spat and Ben could practically hear the sneer.

Ben said nothing, he just focused on keeping his breathing calm and regulated. He channeled serenity as best he could, but it had been so long since he had to rely on anything but anger and pain in a duel. Even back on Exegol, he wasn’t serene, he was determined.

“Are you afraid of me?” Kylo asked, his blade pointed toward Ben. “Of what I am?”

“No,” Ben said, his voice calm. “I know what you are. You’re hurt, scared, and incredibly angry. I _know_ you.”

“You’re just the ghost of a boy I destroyed a long time ago. You were weak and pathetic.” Kylo said, squaring his shoulders. The words hit Ben with a painful pang of recognition, so similar to what he had said to his father on Starkiller Base. It was something he had told himself nearly every day since he took up the mantle of Kylo Ren. “You are here to haunt me, to test my resolve.”

“No,” Ben said, hearing the pain in his own voice. Wishing he had realized the truth of his own words so much earlier. “You can’t ever destroy me. I will always be a part of you.” Ben’s voice wavered.

“Ben, go _home_ ” It felt so strange to say that name out loud for the first time in _years_. It felt foreign and forbidden in some way, just as it had when Snoke had made it illegal to so much breathe the name ‘Ben Solo’ within the First Order.

“You still can, trust me I know.” Ben let out a ragged breath _wishing_ he would have done just that, that he would have taken his father’s hand and thrown that damned lightsaber away as he had eventually done on Kef Bir, before his father was nothing more than a memory.

Kylo said nothing but resumed his attack with regained fervor. Ben resumed his blocking. He wondered how long he could keep this up for, how long Kylo could. He wondered if he should be attacking. Should he be trying to kill Kylo? Was that what the Force wanted? It seemed a bizarre move in Ben’s opinion.

Then Ben remembered why Kylo was here, the droid, the pilot… _Rey_. It all flooded back to him in an instant. If Kylo Ren left here today he would find Rey, he would hurt her, he would kill his father, the First Order would destroy the entire Hosnian System. If Ben could stop Kylo now, he could save the galaxy so much pain and misery. Ben would probably be gone too, he knew that, but it made sense. _This_ was it, _this_ was why the force had brought him back. If Ben was lucky, maybe he could get a message to his mother warning about the impending danger of Starkiller Base and Sidious and implore her to save Rey from a life of loneliness on Jakku. That would have to wait though.

Ben began to fight with new resolve, Kylo seemed startled by this, but did not falter. Their blades clashed together, red and blue against the desert night sky. It was strange, almost, how easily Ben fell into the old rhythm, felt the hot wave of anger flow through him and power each swing and clash. He knew, deep down, that this was not the Jedi way, but once he got started, he could hardly stop.

Ben waited, waited, waited for an opening and finally he saw one. In one swift motion he stabbed his blade through the chest of Kylo Ren who let out an electronically distorted grunt. Hot pride soared through Ben’s torso, so much that it hurt – actually, it hurt a little too much. Ben looked down, the flickering red blade of Kylo’s lightsaber was stabbed through his own torso, almost exactly where Rey had stabbed him on the ruins of the second Death Star.

Ben and Kylo each fell to their knees almost simultaneously, making them even more like grim mirrors of each other than they already were. Ben could hear Kylo’s breathing become labored, mimicking his own. Their lightsabers switched off and the hilts fell to the sand below. The two versions of Ben Solo kneeled in front of each other, watching their twin die. As the world faded, Ben knew that he would do nothing differently, much like the last time he had died.

He woke again in the endless void, the whispering voices crashing into his ear. He looked down, back in his black clothes and completely unstabbed. Had he done what the Force had wanted? It was impossible to tell. Then he heard a voice clear as day, it was his own and it sounded like it was coming from directly behind him.

 _Let the past die, kill it if you have to_. He had said that to Rey during one of their Force bonds. Was that the Force telling him that he was right in some twisted way? Ben was unsure, it didn’t feel right. He saw another speck of light in the distance. Maybe the Force was not done with him just yet.

* * *

Rey’s head jerked violently at the words. She had heard them clear as day this time, she was sure of it. _Let the past die, kill it if you have to_. They were Kylo Ren’s words and she had heard them as though he were standing directly behind her, but there was no one there, just the sky and ocean birds.

“Rey, is everything okay?” Finn asked, one of the small rocks he had been concentrating on floating fell onto his head and he rubbed the spot angrily.

“Yes, fine.” She said with all of the calm she could manage. “Sorry, did I make you break your focus?”

“Only a little.” Finn grumbled, and then he looked at her almost cautiously, brows furrowed. “Rey,” he breathed deeply and looked at her as though he had been practicing what he was about to say for months now. “What is going on? I can tell something’s wrong. Poe could tell, Rose could tell. I think that’s why you left – why _we_ left. I’m not upset about it, I’m just worried about you.” He sighed and scooted closer to where she sat. “You’re my friend. I know this war messed us all up in a lot of ways, but you’ve been different since Exegol.”

Rey looked away from him, her heart sinking at his words. He was right, she had been different, she had left Poe and Rose, had whisked Finn off to Ahch-To not because she had thought it would be the best place for training, but because she had been tired of the concerned gazes, the prying questions.

“You _died_ on Exegol, I felt it, Rey. You haven’t told me what happened.” Finn sighed and turned his head to gaze off into the ocean around them, it was calm today in stark contrast to how Rey felt inside. “I won’t force you to tell me, but I am here to listen – you’re my friend.”

A hot shame washed over Rey, she had told her friends so little of what happened in the temple of the Sith Eternal. She had told them about the Emperor being her grandfather, about Ben rushing in to help, that Palpatine was gone – for good, hopefully. She hadn’t told them about the rest, it hurt far too much. She had confessed to Finn that, yes, she had died, but she had not explained how it was that she was not currently dead.

She was ashamed of herself. She should be shouting about what Ben did from the rooftops. He had returned to the light, he had saved her, he had given his _life_ for her, but she could hardly bear to speak his name, it hurt too much. Even thinking of Ben, thinking of his sacrifice, sent her into a horrible downward spiral. She could feel the waves of her sorrow crashing over her now, threatening to pull her under. She wanted to stand, to get away, to escape, but she couldn’t keep doing that.

She looked Finn in the eyes, his own were dark and full of understanding and love, compassion poured from him like a faucet. He was well and truly the best person she had ever known, brave and kind, with a heart bigger than his head sometimes – that was probably why he got along so well with Poe. She could tell him, he would understand, he deserved to know.

“I did die on Exegol.” Rey confessed, her voice hardly more than a whisper. Finn leaned over, placing a hand on her shoulder, allowing her to continue at her own pace. “Defeating the Emperor – Palpatine – it took everything I had, every ounce of strength, and I died.” Rey paused again, wracking her brain for how to describe what happened next, searching for the words to define an act of true love.

“What happened?” Finn asked cautiously, his voice also soft. They could hardly hear each other over the crashing of the waves below and the calls of the sea birds that flew overhead.

“I woke up… Ben had healed me, he -” Rey could feel the tears coming now, she tried to blink them away. “He gave his life for me; he gave me everything.”

She could see him in front of her now, his smile fading in the cool light streaming through the open ceiling above, he was falling, fading. She reached out to stop him, but he was gone. She had been too numb to feel it then, to numb to cry, but hot tears rolled down her face now.

“Ben?” Finn questioned but in a moment, realization dawned on his face, his eyes flew open wide. “Oh!”

“Ben and I, we had this special connection through the force, a bond. We could see each other, speak to each other over vast distances – but it was more than that too. It was like our souls were intertwined, we understood each other, could see…” Rey sighed. How was she meant to explain something she did not fully understand herself? “I’m sorry, it’s difficult to explain. Apparently, we are – were,” she corrected painfully. “A _dyad_ in the force, but I’m not quite sure what exactly that means.”

“And you had this… bond with Kylo Ren?” Finn asked slowly. Rey twitched internally at that name. She could not call Ben that, not after everything that had happened, but she would not begrudge Finn for it. Finn had never known Ben, never met him, though he _had_ met Kylo Ren, which made explaining this all the harder.

“Yes.” Rey said with a smile that was half apologetic.

“For how long?”

“At least since I went to meet Luke on Ahch-To, but I think it was always there.” She confessed. “And we opened it during the interrogation on Starkiller.”

“Wow,” Finn laughed, though there was no amusement in it. “I had no -”

“I’m sorry I never told you.” Rey said quickly, desperately. “I didn’t know how to explain it then and now… now it hurts too much. I hardly allow myself to think about it.”

“And this bond, that’s been what’s bothering you?” Finn asked cautiously.

“Yes, mostly. Ben died on Exegol, but the bond didn’t go away. I still feel it, like a phantom limb, I guess. It… hurts.” Rey said, trying to stifle the pain that rose in her as she spoke of it.

“Do you know why?” Finn asked. Rey shook her head no. She wished she knew, wished she knew how to stop it. “Have you tried -” Finn folded his legs underneath him and closed his eyes, one opening to look at her before he spoke again. “Meditating on it?”

“I have done very little _but_ meditate since Exegol.” Rey laughed humorlessly, remembering her countless lonely nights, sleep eluding her.

“Okay, but have you tried asking -” Finn waved his arms around in the air wildly. “ _Them_?” Rey shook her head again. She had been seeking peace, not answers. “Well, maybe try that! You and I,” He gestured between the two of them. “We’re not going to have the answers, but _they_ might.”

Rey’s shoulders slumped. Maybe Finn was right, maybe it was time to call on the past Jedi. She had searched the sacred Jedi texts for answers and found none, where else could she turn? She turned to Finn and gave him a quick nod. It was worth it to try, it had to be. She wanted to be free from this pain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ben Solo Pain Train keeps on chuggin' as Ben faces his past, literally and metaphorically. Rey gets some important information from some old friends.

Ben stared off at the small point of light in the distance, his disinterest in approaching it growing by the second. If this doorway was anything like the last, led anywhere like the last, then he was less than tempted to go through it. The pain last time had been so real, a memory of it shuddered through him now, hot and agonizing. There had been no pain the last time he had died, he had drifted off peaceful and content. This past time, it had been excruciating. It wasn’t just the hot plasma of the lightsaber thrust through his core, but the pain of every cell inside of him gasping for life, for air and slowly, painfully dying.

Despite his trepidation, Ben stood and took a step towards the light, suddenly finding himself directly before the doorway. Ben had to blink his eyes and shook his head, the sensation of moving further and faster than he should have been able to was more than a little disorienting.

He felt that strange draw towards the slivery-white liquid substance that seemed to make up the doorway. It pulled to him and rippled enticingly. Ben reached his hand out nearly unconsciously and the whispers around him quickened, excited, approving. Fear and uncertainty gnawed at Ben’s stomach, but he allowed himself to step through the doorway.

This time Ben found himself on a bustling city street. People rushed past where he stood still, their shoulders brushing him, some grumbling about the rudeness of outworlders. Ben was still wearing his loose back undershirt and trousers.

He began to walk, and he was assaulted by sounds and smells he hadn’t experienced in years. He’d spent so much time aboard sterile, spotless First Order ships, the recycled air cold and stale – and anytime he was planet side he was surrounded by blood, fire, and death. He’d forgotten this, life. What it was like to just see people living around him. Street vendors peddled their foods and wares, yelling in various languages. Children laughed and cried, and mothers comforted them or pulled them away from windows full of sweets and toys.

Ben moved with the flow of the crowd. The street emptied out into a circular city center of sorts, in the middle of which was a large art installment. Towers of imperial stormtrooper helmets turned and twisted around each other, reaching up towards the blue sky above. Each helmet was covered with Alliance symbols and vibrantly colored sunbursts. Ben knew where he was now, Hanna City on Chandrila, his home-world. He whirled around to see the New Republic senate building towering above him. His mother had worked here before her true parentage had been revealed, before everything changed forever.

Ben scanned the crowded city center and what he saw nearly knocked him off his feet. A woman with a head of ornate brown braids bobbed along in the crowd, dragging behind her a young, dark-haired boy, already nearly as tall as she was. The boy’s expression was sour, he wasn’t sure which was worse, being stuck at home with nothing but droids for company or being dragged to work with his mother.

“Ben,” His mother said, turning her head to look at him, but never slowing her stride as she pulled the boy along. “Can you _please_ stop being so difficult?” Her grip on the boy’s wrist was firm, but gentle. She would not hurt him – never.

The boy’s pace did not quicken at his mother’s words, in fact, Ben thought that he may have slowed a bit. Ben pushed his way through the crowd, unconscious of his desperation to be closer to them. If the boy and his mother noticed Ben, they made no indication of it. Instead, they made their way into the senate building, the boy dragging his feet every step of the way.

As Ben entered the building behind them he felt himself stiffen, his face twisting into a grimace and he was sure the younger Ben’s face bore the same expression. An older man stood waiting for them in the lobby, the little hair that clung to his head a bright white, his green eyes shone brightly as the two approached him.

“Ah!” Orill Nant, the personal secretary of Senator Leia Organa, clapped his hands together once in delight. Orill had been an Alderaanian native and Leia had found him in the same way all Alderaanians seemed to find each other, drawn together in some cosmic way by their shared grief. “The ‘Little Prince’!”

Ben audibly groaned at the utterance of that abhorred nickname; it was all Orill had ever called him. Ben knew of Alderaan, of course, his mother had told him countless stories of her once beautiful home planet, but he hated the reminder that he was, in the eyes of the Elder Houses at least, the prince of a planet he could never visit, the heir apparent to an asteroid field.

“Orill, dear, can you take Ben up to my office?” Leia gently nudged Young Ben towards the man. “I’m already running late for my morning meeting.” Leia kissed Ben on the crown of his head and whispered promises of seeing him soon.

“Come along, Little Prince.” Orill said with a smile, holding out one wrinkled had to the little boy. Young Ben did not take it and started towards where he knew his mother’s office to be.

The rest of the day passed by in a flash, Ben watched the scenes play out before him. He knew this day, it was a memory that lived in his mind even now, despite its normality.

Leia’s morning meeting had run long and she did not make it up to her office until well after lunch, both she had Young Ben had eaten by the time she arrived, the lunch together she had promised now nothing more than another broken word. Young Ben sulked in his mother’s office as she worked quietly and diligently. That afternoon, she brought him along to the senate chambers. He had watched, dour and grim, as various senators and delegates argued back and forth, deciding nothing and helping no one – or so the voice in his head told him.

By the time Leia and Young Ben left, the light in the sky was dimming, casting a warm orange glow on the, now emptier, street outside. Leia looked down at Young Ben whose mood had only grown darker as the day progressed. His small brow was furrowed, his arms crossed in front of his chest. She pulled him over to a street vendor and bought each of them a honeycrust, Young Ben’s face had brightened instantly. Honeycrusts were both his and his mother’s favorite sweet.

They sat side by side on the street curb, slowly enjoying the warm, flaky pastry. Ben’s mouth watered at the sight of the treat, he wondered when the last time he had had one was, surely before he had fled Luke’s temple.

“You know, my father used to take me to the Galactic Senate sometimes when I was your age.” Leia said, smiling in remembrance of her long dead adoptive father. Ben, of course, never knew Bail Organa, but he had heard enough about the man. There had been statues of Bail and his wife, Queen Breha, in the Great Temple on Yavin IV. Ben and his mother had paid their respects at the statues every time she had visited him.

“Yeah, but you probably liked it.” Young Ben said, rolling his eyes, the dark cloud that constantly surrounded him dissipating slightly. His mother laughed slightly at that.

“Not always,” She smiled down at him, glistening sugar from the sweet stuck to the side of her mouth.

Ben slowly made his way towards them and sat down next to his mother. He was certain they could not see him now. His heart ached at the sight of her and he yearned to reach out and touch her, but he knew that his heart could not handle it if his hand simply fazed through her, proving that she was not really there.

“Believe it or not, there was a time when I found it _boring_!” Ben’s mother whispered the last word as though it were a scandalous secret and Young Ben giggled into his sweet. Older Ben chuckled as well, it was difficult enough to imagine his mother as a small child, but to imagine a time when politics had not only not been her driving focus, but had bored her? Impossible.

“But my father thought it was important, especially for someone who would be queen one day.” She added sadly, even now Ben could see the ghosts of Alderaan haunting her eyes. “Of course, the senate was really just for show in those days, the Emperor made sure of that.”

Ben’s mother had met Sidious a few times through her work in the Galactic Senate, short though her career may have been. She had described the man to Ben when he was a child, at his own insistence, the visage she had conjured was nowhere near as terrible as the creature Ben had seen in the flesh, the horrible, rotting corpse falling to pieces, trying and failing to hold the immense power it contained.

His mother must have also met Vader during one or two of her visits Ben realized now, though she never, never mentioned him.

“Is that why you bring me?”

“Yes.” His mother replied quietly, all three of them knowing it was only a half truth.

By the time Young Ben and his mother finished their sweets it was well and truly dark outside. Leia rose, offering a hand to her young son who took it willingly. Together they made their way back home to the apartment his family owned, high above Hanna City, both of them knowing his father would not be there to greet them.

The scene faded before Ben and he found himself in a dark and shockingly familiar room. Posters depicting speeders and ships of various builds. Toys lined shelves on the walls, many of them broken beyond repair. The only light streamed in through the blinds from the city outside casting bars across the room. Ben could hear muffled crying and he swiveled his head towards the sound.

Leia was sat on the bed, cradling that same small boy into her body. She rocked him and held him tightly. Ben closed his eyes for a moment imagining he could feel those arms around him now, imagining the sense of security they provided.

The dark tendrils that surrounded the boy were nearly visible, they wrapped themselves around his small frame whispering promises that he would join them one day, that he would not fall to the dark – he would _rise_.

“Mama…” The boy whimpered into his mother’s shoulder, her long hair hiding much of his face. “Mama.”

Ben wondered what nightmare it was this time. He had all but forgotten the nightmares of his childhood, so eclipsed were they by the ones that plagued him as an adult. He remembered only one very clearly, the worst of all. His family lying dead at his feet, their blood soaking the white carpet of their apartment and every time Young Ben would look for the killer, he would only find himself, dripping with their blood, smiling wickedly.

“I know, my sweet boy.” Was all his mother said as she raked her fingers gently through his dark curls.

The vision faded again and then Ben saw no one because he was alone. Waves crashed around him, his black clothing was soaked through, wet hair clung to his face. He could feel his lightsaber humming in his right hand, but he did not look at it. Ben’s vision was focused on the empty swath of Death Star wreckage in front of him.

If he was where he thought he was, Rey should have been there, but the only thing that filled the space now was seawater and ocean air. Ben looked all around him; he couldn’t even see the hulking crashed space station. He was on an island of durasteel in the middle of an angry ocean.

A sudden, golden warmth cut through the chill that permeated him to the bone. He felt his mother’s arms wrap around him and heard her gentle voice, so full of love. He could feel her fingers in his hair and could smell the perfume she used to wear on the ocean breeze.

Ben remembered being Kylo Ren in this moment, remembered the sharp pull away from battle towards something far more important. He had felt caught in a bubble, something so surreal, something he had gone so long without that it seemed foreign surrounded him. He had been able to imagine for a moment that he was still her son, that he was still Ben Solo, that he was loved and worthy of it.

“ _Ben_ ,”

The second after he heard his name the icy cold gripped him again. He felt something ripped from him, something integral, something essential, something he hadn’t even known was there until it was gone. He had felt like his body was failing. He fell to his knees and howled his pain, both physical and emotional, out into the empty air.

His mother was gone. She was gone and Ben had not had the chance to mourn her properly, not with everything that had happened after. He mourned her now. He mourned the woman she was, brilliant and strong, he mourned the time between them that was lost – the time _he_ had ripped from them.

When was the last time he had seen his mother? She had visited the temple a few weeks or so before… _everything_ happened. She had been off on a diplomatic mission to somewhere or another and Yavin IV had been along the way. Oh, why couldn’t he remember where she had been going? He should remember every word she ever said to him, but he couldn’t! He had wasted so much time with her, even before he fell. He hadn’t even watched the message she had sent him after he and the galaxy found out her true parentage. He’d thrown it away in anger. What he wouldn’t give to listen to that message now.

While they had not seen each other, he and his mother had certainly sensed each other during the battle of D’Qar. He’d felt her there, so close, their consciousnesses had brushed against each other’s, only if briefly. His mother’s presence ever cool and calm amidst the chaos on the command deck of the Resistance flagship and he’d almost – Ben screamed out something ragged and feral into the sky above and the sea below.

He punched at the wreckage below him, pounding his fists into the hard, rusting, worn dusrasteel. He wished it were his own face. He wanted to hurt the man who had destroyed his family. As he heard the bones in his hands crack from the force of the blows, he supposed he was doing just that, but he deserved so much more. Anger and sorrow wailed in him like a storm, but he sought no shelter, he wished it would blow him away.

Ben slumped forward, his energy spent, he began to weep quietly. His tears mixed easily with the waves that crashed overhead. He closed his eyes and felt the emptiness rage inside of him.

“Mama…” The boy whimpered into the nothingness that surrounded him.

When he opened his eyes he was back in the void, another portal already blinking into existence in the far distance.

* * *

Rey sat herself down on the smooth overlook that jutted out over the crashing waves below just outside of the temple on Ahch-To. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the salty sea air. She reached out with her emotions, she could feel the life and death around her, that never ending cycle, and the Force that kept the balance in between it all. She let the Force fill her and guide her, let its light shine within her and project out towards those who had come before.

 _Be with me_. She thought. _Be with me_. Suddenly, the balance and her concentration came crashing down.

“Ouch,” Finn let out a quiet, frustrated whisper behind her. Rey whipped her head around to glare at him. He looked up to her, heat rising in his face and flashed her a bashful smile.

“Sorry!” He said, throwing one hand up, the other was rubbing his foot. “My foot fell asleep. How do you sit like that for so long?”

Rey just shook her head and closed her eyes again, grasping for the focus that had been ripped from her. She reached for the Force and it filled her like the air she breathed. From her centered state, she could see the map of the galaxy spread before her, the lights of every living being lit up the dark expanse before her, twinkling like stars, more that could ever be counted. She reached out not for those who were living, but those who had passed on. When she exhaled, she could feel them, they were with her.

 _“Rey.”_ Came a familiar voice both rough and warm.

 _“Master Skywalker.”_ Rey projected the thought with a smile. She could not see him or any of the other Jedi, but she could feel them, hear them. They lived within her just as they lived within everything.

 _“To what do we owe the pleasure, Rey?”_ Master Skywalker asked. She could practically see his smile, the way the skin crinkled around his blue eyes.

 _“Master, I have felt something in the force, within myself, and I don’t know what it means.”_ Rey answered.

 _“In pain, you are_.” Said a second voice, one that Rey recognized but had no name for.

“ _I am._ ” Rey agreed.

“ _This is about Ben, isn’t it, Rey?”_ Came a third voice, this one Rey did recognize – Leia. Rey smiled at the sound of her former master’s voice.

“ _It’s about our bond, Master Organa, I can still feel it reaching out for… something, someone. I’ve been hearing his voice, but it’s not like this, it’s more like an echo.”_

“ _Hopeful, you are, that he is not gone, hmm?”_

Rey considered lying for a moment, telling them that this had nothing to do with her hoping against hope that Ben was not well and truly gone, but she knew there was no point. She was speaking with Jedi masters; they could see through her easily. Instead, she tried to answer around the question.

 _“No one is ever truly gone_.” She said, her voice flat and impassioned. _“There is no death, only the Force.”_

Ben was one with the Force now, she knew that, she forced herself to know that. She had felt his light go out just as she had with Han and Luke and Leia, she had felt the bond break, she had watched him disappear before her eyes. Was he with them now? Could he hear her, sense her, feel her? Surely he would say something if he were.

“ _Your thoughts betray you, Rey._ ” A fourth voice, this one also vaguely familiar but without a name, its tone was deep, rich and smooth. “ _You wonder if young Solo is with us_.”

“ _I only want to end the pain, to quiet the bond.”_ She answered plainly, but added, “ _though, I am curious, yes.”_

“ _A bond like this, never have I seen. A dyad, hmm.”_ The second voice said. “ _Only one way to break it, I’m afraid. Only death.”_

 _“But Ben’s already dead.”_ Rey protested. Even the voice in her head sounded like a pained whine _._

 _“So sure of that, are you?”_ Asked the infuriating second voice.

“ _Ben is not with us, Rey, nor is he in the Netherworld of the Force.”_ This fifth voice was also male, a younger man. She knew that she had heard him before. “ _But he is not on your plane either._ ”

“ _Where is he_?” Rey asked, almost begging.

“ _Know this, we do not. Troubling, it is.”_ The second voice replied, Rey’s heart sank. “ _Somewhere else, he must be. Hmm_.”

“ _Somewhere else_?” Luke asked, “ _Where else could he be, Master Yoda_?”

“ _More information, we need.”_ The second voice, Master Yoda, apparently, said. “ _In the Jedi archives, the answers may have been._ ” His tone was dark, pained almost.

“ _The Jedi archives were destroyed by Sidious._ ” The deeper, smoother voice pointed out.

“ _Most of it was, yes.”_ Added the young man’s voice. “ _Sidious kept some of the texts for himself… as did I._ ” The man added sheepishly. Rey wondered what that meant. Who was this person?

“ _What are you saying, father?_ ” Luke asked.

 _Father_? Rey’s focus nearly slipped from her grasp, she struggled to maintain her connection with the past Jedi. Rey had not grown up with the luxury of a formal education and there was much of the past that eluded her, but she didn’t need formal education to know who Luke Skywalker’s father was – Anakin Skywalker – Darth Vader. A mixture of fear and awe rippled through her. This was the man who had captured his grandson’s unyielding obsession in the same way that he and the Emperor had captured the galaxy under their empire.

“ _Sidious kept some of the texts in his personal quarters within the Imperial Palace on Coruscant. I’m not sure what would have happened to those after the fall of the Empire, of course.”_ Anakin paused, thoughtfully. “ _Considering how obsessed he was with living forever, those would be the kinds of texts he would keep, wouldn’t you think?_ ”

“ _Hmmm_ …” A sixth voice, this one thick with a Couscanti accent. “ _That is a… good point, Anakin._ ” The Jedi’s voice was tight, as though he were reluctant to pay Anakin a compliment. “ _It is possible that this information could still be found on Coruscant, then.”_

“ _A good place to start_.” Rey thought. “ _Thank you all.”_

 _“Be careful, young Rey, that your desire does not cause you to undermine the will of the force.”_ The fourth voice added, his voice rumbling through Rey’s consciousness. She could feel the spirits pulling away from her now.

Rey only nodded curtly. Her heart was racing. If Ben was neither dead nor alive, there was a chance, right? Rey exhaled as she came down from her meditative trance. She quashed the hope rising in her chest, she would not give it purchase, would not feed it, would not allow it to fester there like an open wound until reality came to pour salt in it as it always did.

Finn was sitting in front of her, the two suns setting into the sea behind him, the light of day fading away. How long had she been gone, she wondered? He waved a hand in her face as he watched her blink back to their plane of existence.

“Did it work?” he asked, expectantly, his dark eyes wide with anticipation.

“I – yes,” Rey said, allowing a small smile to form on her face. “We’re going to Coruscant.”

* * *

“No!” Ben roared from his position on the ground. He was lying on his back now, his glare fixed at the endless blackness that was the sky, or the ceiling, or, at the very least, it was _up_. He could see the point of light out of the corner of his eyes, it sparkled against the darkness, trying to draw him towards it.

Ben groaned to himself, how had he been so naïve? This was not the force granting him some kind of unwarranted second chance or allowing him to correct his mistakes, this was some kind of punishment. Ben closed his eyes and sighed, admitting to himself that it was a punishment he deserved. For a morbid moment, Ben wondered what kind of punishment his grandfather had received upon his death. What kind of retribution had the force deemed worthy for _Darth Vader_?

Ben shook the thought from his mind. He had to stop comparing himself to that man. He was _not_ Darth Vader; he never had been. He had wasted too much of his life on that particular obsession. Allowing Snoke to convince him, convincing himself, that he was the heir to Vader’s legacy. What legacy was that anyway? A legacy of failure, pain, misery, anger – if that was the case, in being Vader’s heir, Ben had been a perfect successor.

The whispers grew restless. Ben could still not understand what they were saying, but at this point he could tell how they felt – encouraged, angry, mischievous. Currently, they were not happy with him, were ready for him to move on. Ben was not sure how much longer he could stand the constant cacophony of wordless sound assaulting his ears.

“Leave me alone!” Ben groaned, throwing one arm in the air, batting at his incorporeal, aural assailants. He let his arm fall hard over his eyes. He wished that he could sleep, but he was not tired, he doubted he would ever feel tired here or hungry or thirsty. He was fairly sure he knew where he was now. Some called it ‘chaos’, though Ben’s father had called it ‘hell’. A particularly dark region of the Netherworld of the force, reserved for Sith Lords and dark Jedi – exactly where Ben belonged, the coldest part of himself admitted.

Ben sighed dramatically. He knew that he was putting off the inevitable. It was not a matter of _if_ he would go through this new doorway, but a matter of _when_. He grumbled incoherent curses as he lifted himself to his feet. He took a few steps forward, yet again, time and space warped around him strangely and he found himself in front of the glowing portal almost instantly. He wondered grimly what fresh torture awaited him on the other side.

Ben closed his eyes and stepped through the silvery, silken doorway. When he opened them, he was in a shelter of some kind, cold metal walls surrounded him. A small doorway stood open to the outside world; he could see dunes of sand colored blue by the moonlight. Scratched marks lined the walls, each of them small and lined up equally like tallies marking harsh days and lonely nights.

A dull ache began to rise in his chest, a loneliness and a hope that tore at his very being. These feelings were not his own, he realized, but it didn’t seem to matter at the moment. Looking at the marks – each of them was a day, another day closer to home, love, family. To people who _did_ love him, who _would_ come back, who had only gotten lost somehow, perhaps.

Ben looked down at himself, he was a child wrapped in loose-fitting, breathable desert rags. He clutched a handmade doll in his hands, pieces of orange fabric wrapped around the humanoid figure mimicking rebel fighter garb. Ben had a similar doll as a very small child, though it had been bought in a Chandrillan toy shop, not made of rags by a lonely child to help ease the pain of their desolation.

_You come from nothing. You’re nothing._

Oh, how those words would hurt this child, oh how they _had_. It hit Ben. He knew this structure, had glimpsed it in Rey’s mind. It had been her shelter, her _home_ , for lack of a better word. He could feel her bitter loneliness, so like his own, it was breaking his heart all over again.

For a moment he remembered being Kylo, seeing these things, feeling her feelings. It had torn at him in some, then, unexplainable way. He’d understood her, felt _compassion_ for her, as illogical as that was. There had been a pain in his chest, something tearing at him in a way that should not have been possible, not anymore. Kylo Ren cared for _no one_ , and yet, here she was, this unexplainable, impossible girl with which he had felt a connection so deep it had frightened him.

Ben blinked and he was in the belly of a wrecked star destroyer, his small hands clutching at a handhold in the wreckage. He looked down, only for a moment. He was dangling at least dozens of feet in the air, his own small hands and feet the only thing keeping him from broken limbs or even death. His arms and core ached from climbing, but his stomach growled and something inside of him told him that he had to keep going.

This child had no name for the voice inside of her, the seemingly innate knowledge of where the best scrap could be found, the instinct to go on _just a bit further_ , the awareness of unapparent danger – _No, that handhold’s too loose! Stop, those are sinking fields!_ As she grew, she assumed it was a finely tuned and honed survivor’s instinct, or maybe dumb luck. She did not know the power that flowed through her veins, was unaware of the burden hefted upon her by a cruel and unforgiving universe. She did not know the Force.

He blinked again and he was flying above an ocean, the waters below cool, calm and deep blue. An island rose from the sea before him, green and mountainous, craggy rocks jutted up towards the sky sharply. He could smell the salt in the air, feel the water spray on his face. Waves crashed against the rock below and seabirds cawed loudly above. Tranquility washed over Ben as though it were a tangible thing, as though he had driven straight into the surf.

The familiarity of these scenes had Ben’s emotions spinning. Pain cracked through his skull threatening to split his head in two. He could feel the invisible hand of the force raking through his mind.

 _You’ve been so lonely_. The deep voice rattled through Ben’s mind.

 _At night, desperate to sleep, you imagine an ocean._ Ben wanted to scream, he squeezed his eyes shut, pain erupted through him, a heavy pounding behind his eyes.

Ben opened his eyes. A hand wrapped in a thick leather glove hovered so closely to his face it nearly brushed his cheek. Ben could see his own face staring back at him, ebony eyes blown wide, mouth agape, shock and confusion written clearly on his face. Kylo Ren stumbled backwards. Ben could practically hear the thoughts rolling through his mind – _No. How is this happening? This is impossible._

Ben struggled at the restraints around his wrists, the metal cutting into the pale flesh of his arms. He closed his eyes and felt cold air whipping across his face.

Ben opened his eyes and the scene had changed yet again. He was in a snow-covered forest. The light had gone, the sun drained by the horrible machine that churned beneath his feet. The ice-cold winds of Illum swirled around him, angry at the devastation the Empire and now the First Order had wrought on the once sacred planet.

A tall, dark figure approached from between the trees, hunched over, cradling its side. Kylo Ren was wearing his mask, which Ben found odd, but had no time to consider as Kylo’s blade screamed to life, casting the snowy trees in flickering crimson light. Kylo pounded the wound on his side with a heavy fist, an animalistic mechanically distorted roar escaping him, dark blood pooled in the snow at his feet.

Ben could feel his own lightsaber in his hand and wasted no time in flicking the ignition switch on, the blue blade humming to life beside him. Kylo charged, red blade held aloft, his heavily wounded body powered by the dark side. Ben could feel the darkness rolling off of his counterpart – Kylo was angry, but Ben was angry too.

Ben’s blood ran hot at the sight of Kylo Ren here, now. His lower jaw trembled with old rage. He was angry with the man charging towards him – this man who had destroyed everything he should have held dear, whose sense of morality had been so twisted, whose heart had been so destroyed that he had killed his own father in cold blood.

He had thought it was for something then, that it was necessary. How could he become who he was meant to be if the reminders of Ben Solo lived and breathed? He had never wanted to kill his father, but, at the time, he had _known_ it was something that he had needed to do – but it was all for nothing. He’d been so blind. It was all for nothing, wasted years, wasted blood, wasted lives. It was worse than evil, it was meaningless.

He'd been so afraid then of failing, of being a failure. He had tied himself so concretely to Snoke’s vision of who he should be, of who he was destined to become, that any failure on his part would not only lead to his master’s ire, but also the threat of becoming unmoored yet again, lost in the confusing world of the Force and his family. Who was he if not Vader’s heir? Just the wayward son of legends, just a boy abandoned by his parents and his master, just a disappointment. Without that dream, without that plan, he was _nothing._

He _had_ been a failure, and his greatest failures were found in all of the ways he thought he had been succeeding.

Tears pricked the corners of Ben’s eyes as he raised his own lightsaber to meet Kylo’s, red and blue clashing into each other, sparking and hissing in the cold air. Both men pushed against the other’s blade, willing the other to falter, but neither did.

“Are you happy now?” Ben taunted, his voice shaking but not from the cold. “Are you finally free from that pain, from that pull to the light? Or did your _Master_ lie?” He dipped his voice low for that final question, a deep, poisonous growl that he knew would rattle Kylo’s bones. His father had insinuated something similar not too long ago and Kylo had only just realized how true it was.

Kylo’s only answer was an enraged roar. Ben could feel the darkness gathering inside of his former self who pooled his power and pushed back against Ben’s lightsaber, breaking their blade lock. Ben was sent stumbling back, the ground shaking beneath him.

“You killed your father!” Ben shouted over the thunderous sound of the planet beneath them shaking apart. He charged at Kylo this time, meeting him with a flurry of quick and angry strikes. Kylo was caught off-balance by this but did manage to block all of Ben’s swings. “He loved you and you killed him.”

Ben could hear Rey’s words echoing in his head, fresh tears threatening his eyes. They stung in the harsh cold, tiny icy daggers, but he deserved it, he deserved so much more. He took several more swings at Kylo and then reached out with the force, lifting the man and throwing him hard into the trunk of a nearby tree.

“You _monster_.” He whispered, the word dragging over his tongue like a knife, it hurt him as much as he hoped it hurt the man in front of him. He was drawing closer to Kylo who was scrambling in the snow, desperately trying to stand despite his pain. “Do you feel whole yet? Are you who you were meant to be, now that you’ve killed your past?”

Ben stepped slowly towards the man; his blade outstretched. Kylo stood again, his legs shaking from pain. Ben landed a heavy over-handed swing, Kylo dodged, but Ben managed to nick his arm. A pained, mechanically distorted hiss escaped Kylo’s mask. Kylo reeled back but recovered quickly, no doubt drawing power from this new pain as well, and thrust at Ben. Ben quickly parried Kylo’s move and swung hard to the left, knocking Kylo’s lightsaber out of his hand, the hilt falling to the snow at his feet.

Ben pulled the second lightsaber into his off hand, reigniting it. Oh, how he missed this! He had not realized how he had missed the angry, discordant buzzing of his old lightsaber in his hand. It felt infuriatingly right and horrifyingly wrong all at the same time. He could feel the hate and the anger flow from the cracked and bled crystal into him, fueling the rage he already felt for the creature at his feet. This anger was his own, he had poured it into the crystal long ago and now it returned to him, igniting his blood.

He shouldn’t give into his fury like this. He knew that, he really and truly _knew_ , but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d never been able to control himself once the fire inside of him flared like this – he only knew one way to put it out. He needed to destroy something, and he knew just what he wanted to destroy right now.

Red and blue hummed together in synch as he drew on Kylo who had fallen in his attempt to flee and was now crawling backwards, leaving a trail of blood in the snow. Ben backed Kylo up until the other man’s back was pressed to the trunk of a tree. The ground below Ben’s feet trembled and roared hideously, threatening to pull the both of them down into its destruction, but Ben didn’t care. He had already been destroyed. He pointed both blades at Kylo.

“Take off your helmet.” Ben growled. He wanted to see Kylo’s eyes, wanted to see his fear. Ben knew that wanting this was wrong, that he was giving in to the darkness that lurked inside of him, constantly biting at his heels, but why should he care now? He was already dead.

Slowly, Kylo obliged, lifting his hands and disengaging the helmet with a sharp hiss. As he lifted it, Ben tripped back in shock. A boy’s face stared back at him, no older than thirteen, dark circles lined his sad, stormy eyes, too-large ears poked out from beneath a mop of dark curls. Tears welled in the boy’s eyes, his face twisted in anger and fear and shame and regret.

Ben fell to his knees, the lightsaber hilts falling into the snow beside him, and wept openly into his hands.

Ben only lifted his gaze when he heard the whispers again. The darkness of the void surrounded him. His hands fell to the ground, his shoulders slumped. He wasn’t sure he could take much more of this torture, a special kind of agony designed specifically to torment him.

Ben felt a tug at something inside of him, like a golden rope tied around his very being that was being pulled taut. He reached out for it, holding firm, not allowing it to slip away this time. The air around him started to buzz and the whispering faded. Ben gasped aloud when he saw her there, standing in front of him, her own eyes wide in awe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey catches Ben up on the situation and he has a talk with the man who started it all.

Rey reached up to tap Han’s lucky golden dice and sat back in the pilot’s seat as the _Millennium Falcon_ hit hyperspace. Not long after the war ended, Chewie had decided to return home, to try and find his family. Rey had offered him the _Falcon,_ but he had refused, insisting she took it, citing that the ship contained too many memories, the ghosts of old friends, all gone now. He had taken little with him but a new ship, provided by the Resistance, and Han’s medal. Rey hoped that she would see him again one day.

Rey offered Finn a small smile who returned it quickly with one of his own. It was clear how excited Finn was to return to Coruscant after all this time, to see their friends. He had wasted no time in placing a comm to the Galactic Federation to announce their expected arrival time. He had been trying to get through with Poe or Rose, of course, but both had been in meetings at the time, unfortunately.

While Rey was equally as excited about the idea of seeing her friends again, guilt bit at her as she looked over at Finn who twitched with nervous anticipation. She had already apologized a dozen times since explaining the real reason they had left for Ahch-To and Finn had forgiven her as many times, still she had ripped him from his friends. She sighed as she stood.

“Are you hungry?” Rey asked moving towards the lounge. She was not particularly hungry herself, but she had to get up, had to move.

“I could eat.” Finn called back as Rey crossed the threshold of the cockpit and headed for the hold, she was fairly sure that was where they had packed away their provisions.

“Alright, be right -”

Rey’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel it, the tether of their bond pulling taut. She did not ignore it this time or try to stifle it, she grasped at it, pushing herself into it, strengthening it as best she could. If he was not gone, if he could be saved, maybe Rey could reach him like this.

“Rey? Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, fine!” She called back, willing her voice to be steady. She kept herself moving, out of the cockpit corridor and into the lounge, her legs shaking from the strain of holding onto the connection. “Be right back.”

Rey could hardly hear Finn’s response. Her full concentration was focused on strengthening the bond, on pushing through whatever barrier was separating her from Ben. She felt the string on her end of the bond catch his as it sang back to life, golden light radiated from within her as her heart thudded against her rib cage.

She blinked and he was there on the ground in front of her. Rey felt all the air leave her lungs at once. Ben looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes, his face wet with tears. He let out an audible gasp as his dark eyes traced Rey’s face. Rey knelt in front of him so that they were on the same level. Her hand reached out to his face instinctively, gently caressing his cheek. He was real, he was warm.

“Are you – are you real?” Ben breathed, pain and fear danced behind his eyes as though he did not want to allow himself to believe she was really and truly there with him. Fresh tears threatened the corners of his eyes.

“Of course, I’m real, Ben.” Rey said, her voice shaky. She placed her free hand on his other cheek so that she cradled his face. “Of course, I’m real.”

Neither of them spoke for a time, just stared at each other in peaceable silence. Rey was trembling. She wiped the wetness from his face with the pads of her thumbs. She had a thousand questions, a thousand things to tell him, but she struggled to get the words past her lips.

“Where are you?” She whispered, her eyes never leaving his. He looked at her like she was a precious thing, like she was the sun, like _she_ was the one who had been gone for over a year. She shifted closer from her position on the ground. “Do you know where you are?” Ben’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean, Rey?” Ben’s voice was quiet as well. It was as though they both believed that any loud sound may break the spell. “I’m dead.” His voice cracked with emotion.

“No, you’re not” Rey shook her head, a wild smile spreading across her face. “You’re really not.”

“What are you saying?”

“I – I spoke with the past Jedi, they’re not sure where you are, but…” Rey breathed, joy bubbling up her throat. The hope, once a treacherous path she dare not allow herself to tread, now bloomed fully in her chest, warming her heart which felt like it was beating again for the first time in just over a year.

“You what?” Ben quietly interrupted, his eyes flashing with caution.

“I called on them, I sought their guidance on -” Rey felt a sharp pang of regret. She’d been trying to close the bond. She couldn’t tell him that now. “I’m going to search for more information on where you might be, we’re headed to Coruscant.”

Ben’s brow furrowed and Rey could not tell if it was from disbelief or from lack of understanding, it was probably both.

“Rey,” Ben began, his voice was firm, almost admonishing and Rey knew instantly what he was going to say, she had to stop him.

“No, Ben. Don’t try and stop me. This has been the longest year of my life and…” Rey wasn’t sure what she was going to say next. That she couldn’t keep going on like that, that she couldn’t bear the thought of him being gone a moment longer?

“ _Year?_ ” Rey could hardly hear Ben over the engines of the _Falcon_ rumbling around her. “It’s been a year?”

Rey only nodded in response. Ben looked at her as if he’d had the wind knocked from his lungs. She wondered how long it had been for him. Time must move differently where he was, that was good information, she would have to remember it for her research.

“I’m coming to get you, Ben. I promise.” Rey tried to send the solidity of her vow across the bond, to make him understand with the solemnity of her tone, with the intent behind her eyes. “I promise.” She repeated, softly.

Ben closed his eyes and sighed, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I love you, Rey.” He breathed.

Rey’s heart skipped; her breath hitched. Rey knew, deep down, that Leia had loved her. She also knew that her friends loved her. It had been a hard realization to come to after years and years of such a lack of love. She had even known that Ben had loved her, she’d known it the moment he landed on Exegol, maybe she knew it before that if she were honest with herself. Still, no one had ever said the words before. She knew why he was saying it now though and it frustrated her beyond end.

He didn’t believe her!

“Don’t do that, don’t say goodbye.” She said with a huff, pulling her head back from his, the determination in her eyes meeting the resignation in his.

“I love you.” He repeated, lifting a hand to caress her face, the calloused pad of this thumb gently tracing the apple of her cheek. A single tear fell from Rey’s eye.

She felt the terrible monster of doubt claw it’s way into her mind, poisoning the newly born hope that had only just taken root. What if she was wrong? What if there was no way to bring him back? What if she was right? What if there was a way to bring him back but she couldn’t find it and he was trapped wherever he was forever? What ifs raced through her mind and she knew in an instant that she had to tell him what was in her heart, what she felt for him, what she had felt for him for longer than her past self would have cared to admit.

“I love you, too.” She whispered. The air around them grew stale, the bond that connected them through time and space began to waver. Rey’s heart was seized by panic, she couldn’t lose him again, but she couldn’t keep him either.

She crashed her lips into his, kissing him greedily, desperately, pressing a prayer into him that one day they would have a kiss without a time limit, one day they would be together without the threat of death or an uncontrolled bond ripping them apart. Ben wrapped his arms around her and pressed her closer to him, meeting her desperation with his own, his pleas and hers mingled, begging the force to allow them more time, just a little more time.

Their symbiotic appeals were met with apparent apathy. Cold recycled air replaced the space Ben had once been and a small part of Rey died. She tried to grasp at hope and happiness, he really was out there somewhere, she had felt his life as real as though it were her own. Still, emptiness was all that filled her now, the ache of the bond rattling against her soul.

She slumped to the ground, her forearms pressed hard against the cold durasteel floor of the hallway, she deflated. Rey cursed herself for all of the times he had been near her and she had not reached out to him, not kissed him. Wasted time, she felt it slip through her fingers as he had on the floor of the Sith Eternal temple. Now, just as then, she was left with heartbreak.

Rey took a moment, breathed deeply and gathered herself. R2D2 beeped behind her, concerned. She wondered if he had seen the whole thing, though she doubted he would have been able to see Ben at all in any case.

“I’m alright, Artoo.” She said, placing a gentle hand atop the domed head of the astromech droid.

He beeped morosely in response. She could tell from his tone that he did not believe her, but he pressed the issue no further. She stood slowly and languidly gathered a couple of ration bars from the hold. She gathered the force to dull the pain of the recently re-broken bond.

Rey offered Finn a ration and a small smile that did not reach her eyes as she returned to the cockpit. He eyed her curiously.

“Are you alright, Rey? You were gone for a long time” Finn asked, his tone cautious.

“Oh, yes.” She had been. “I’m sorry, the bond was…” She explained vaguely. She did not continue and hoped that it was not necessary.

“Oh,” He said, sounding like he understood, even if he truly couldn’t. “Don’t worry,” He placed a kind hand on Rey’s shoulder. “We’ll figure out a way to close that off for good, I promise.”

Rey stilled at his words and a chill ran down her spine. Rey had not revealed everything to Finn. She had not told him that Ben might not truly be gone, she had not told him that what she really wanted to learn was how to save him, and she had no plans on telling him that she had held Ben in her arms just moment ago. Rey knew that Finn was kind and sweet and the best friend she had ever had, but everyone had limits and she was terrified to learn what his were.

Finn had never known Ben. He had never seen Rey’s vision on Ahch – To, he had never seen the kind, sad eyes, he had not seen the man rushing into the fray on Exegol with nothing but a blaster and a singular purpose, _help Rey_. Finn had known Kylo Ren, had been stationed on Starkiller Base with him, had been cut down in a snowy forest and left for dead by him. How could he ever understand what Rey wanted – needed – to do, and how could she ever expect him to?

Rey only nodded; her lips pulled into a tight smile.

She slumped in on herself in the pilot’s seat and began to nibble at the ration bar she had grabbed for herself. She tasted nothing and felt emptier by the second.

* * *

Ben felt the connection between he and Rey snap and he shouted curses into the void. Only the whispers sounded back, though they hardly seemed scandalized, in fact, they seemed particularly calm right now. A new portal flashed to life in the distance. Ben felt it pull at him the same way a younger Ben Solo had felt a pull to the dark, the same way Kylo Ren had felt a pull to the light – it was something he hated, wanted to reject, to expel from his being but could not no matter how hard he tried.

He stood and wiped the remaining wetness from his face, though Rey had taken care of most of that for him. Poor, sweet, beautiful Rey. Ben’s heart ached for her. She had been alone a year now and she had been in pain, he knew because he had felt it too. In the short time Rey had been gone he had lived on the other side of a shattered bond, the pain had nearly overshadowed the heartbreak of losing the woman he loved, or maybe that was part of it?

Either way, she had deluded herself into thinking that Ben was not gone, that she could bring him back if only she tried hard enough, if only she hoped hard enough. Rey was a master of denial; Ben knew that all too well. He had seen through her eyes the ship leaving the sands of Jakku, taking her parents with it. He had felt through her memories her tiny soul shattering when she felt their lives being snuffed out even lightyears away. Still, she had waited fourteen long years for them. Fourteen years of scavenging, fourteen years of hunger and loneliness and poverty. How long would she wait for Ben?

Part of Ben hoped that she would move on quickly, that she would realize this endeavor was fruitless because Ben was _dead_ and she would find love and happiness and peace somewhere else, with someone else even. Still, another part of him, the worst part, a smaller, sadder, lonelier part, hoped that she couldn’t move on just as he knew he never would have been able to. He hated himself for hoping that, but he couldn’t deny that he did.

She had said that she _loved_ him. He still couldn’t believe it was true, the crueler part of his heart convincing him that she had been yet another vision from this place, but how could that be? Why would this void of perpetual pain bless him with her love? It was something he knew he did not, could never, deserve, but his lonely, broken soul gobbled it up eagerly, reveling in the kiss they had shared.

He closed his eyes, allowing the memory of her lips soft and pliant against his own play through him like a holovid. He remembered their first kiss too, he had thought that single kiss could have sustained him for the rest of his life, as short as that had been, perhaps two could sustain him for the remainder of his eternal damnation? It was a nice thought.

He glowered at the doorway in the distance, wanting nothing to do with it at all. He could hear the whispers surrounding him now, he could almost feel them vibrating with encouragement. _Go on_ , they seemed to say, _it’s inevitable_.

Ben quickly turned on his heels and began marching in the opposite direction of the doorway. He smiled smugly at his small act of temporary defiance. The air changed at that, the whispers became enraged, demanding him to move on, to enter their new den of torture, but Ben refused to give them the satisfaction and he kept on moving into the inky blackness beyond him.

He could feel the doorway reaching out to him, calling him. It’s icy tendrils trying to wrap around his form, perhaps an attempt to physically pull him closer, but he shook the feeling off.

The sound of the whispers grew until they were not whispers at all. Shouting echoed through the darkness, just as wordless as the whispering had been but much, much angrier. Ben couldn’t care less. Let them yell, let them be angry. He pressed the palms of his hands against his ears in an attempt to block the sound, but it was no use. The shouting was inside of his head now, it’s tone taunting, promising relief if only he would go through the next doorway – a _lie_.

Ben continued, putting one foot in front of the other, putting more and more distance between himself and the accursed doorway with each movement, until he hit something cold and solid and unseen with a hard _thud_. The impact caused Ben to lose his balance momentarily, knocking him to the ground.

He looked up but he saw nothing, just more darkness. He reached out one hand tentatively and felt a cool, smooth surface, hard and firm like a wall. He pushed against it but felt no give. He sighed and turned around, resting his back against the surface, the cold uncomfortable on his back, but he didn’t care much.

He sighed, pressing his head into his forearms which rested against his knees. The air buzzed with electricity and Ben hardly noticed that the shouting had subsided, reverting to a barely audible whisper yet again. He felt a presence with him now, but it was not Rey, though it did feel strangely familiar. He lifted his eyes tentatively.

A young man stood in front of him, younger than Ben. His face was handsome, and while Ben did not know him he was struck with a bizarre recognition at the sight of the man’s piercing blue eyes which looked kind and sad. Dark blond hair hung just above his shoulders and he wore dark Jedi robes.

The man smiled when he noticed Ben’s attention, his eyes darting to the side for a moment as if he were nervous. Ben watched the man for a moment and understood without understanding how that this was his grandfather.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Ben asked, narrowing his eyes.

“What?” His grandfather asked, seeming genuinely confused. His tone and overall demeanor held a lightness that did not befit Darth Vader. “A grandfather can’t visit his grandson for no reason?” Anakin Skywalker smiled, but there was a hint of sorrow there. Ben wondered if his grandfather had ever been able to smile without a hint of melancholy.

“Apparently not.” Ben grumbled under his breath with a huff. “Why now?” Frustration coiled in the pit of Ben’s stomach. After years of trying to reach out to this man he chose now? Now, when it was far too late?

Something flashed in those blue eyes and Anakin’s expression shifted from one of playful mockery to one of sad understanding. He took a step towards his grandson, the corners of his mouth still turned upward slightly. His hands were hidden in the sleeves of his dark brown robes.

“Ben,” Anakin said, his tone upsettingly understanding. “I…”

“Why did you never come to me?” Ben asked, anger seeping into his tone, his hands curling into fists. “Why did you never answer my calls?”

“And what,” Anakin began, his brow furrowing. “Show you, what was it, _the power of the darkness_?” Much to Ben’s frustration, his grandfather rolled his eyes at that. “You weren’t calling for _me_ , Ben, you were calling for _Vader_. Which, I suppose, would still be me but not -” Anakin shut his eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked up again, his eyes meeting Ben’s.

“If _I_ had showed up, would you have listened to me?” His blue eyes were pleading, for what, Ben could not say.

Ben wrenched his attention away from his grandfather’s gaze, chewing the inside of his cheek. He hated to admit it, but Anakin was right. Snoke had fervently impressed upon Ben the weakness of Anakin Skywalker, how giving in to the light at the end of his life was just a fatal lapse in an otherwise brilliant career. After time Snoke’s thoughts became Ben’s, became Kylo’s. He’d thought Anakin a failure, crippled by sentiment, by the love for his son.

Kylo Ren had heard Vader’s voice before. Of course, Ben now knew this was yet another of Sidious’ manipulations. He called on the spirit of Darth Vader for guidance, but he’d never truly wanted his grandfather there. If Anakin Skywalker had appeared to him, had tried to guide him, Kylo would have thought it a trick of the light, a new aspect to it’s pull that vexed him so.

“No,” Ben admitted lowly.

“Maybe I should have tried anyway.” Anakin sighed, deep regret lacing his tone. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and placed a gentle hand on Ben’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You’ve lived in shadows for so long, Ben.” Anakin said, a mixture of sorrow and regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry that the largest one was mine.”

Ben and his grandfather did not speak for some time after that, the silence twisting between them uncomfortably.

“Where are we?” Anakin asked, finding his voice first. He craned his neck to look at the darkness that surrounded them.

“Hell, I think.” Ben muttered with a humorless laugh.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been.” Anakin responded and though Ben was not looking, he could practically hear the smirk spreading across his grandfather’s face.

“Oh, that seems fair.” Ben huffed, rolling his eyes. The Force had not deemed _Darth Vader_ worthy of this kind of torture – but when had the Force ever been fair?

“Hey!” Anakin said with mock offense. Ben looked at him and his blue eyes sparkled and for a moment he looked just like Luke. “You’re not there either, by the way. Your girl is right.”

“You spoke with Rey?” Ben asked, shooting up into a standing position. He could see now that his grandfather was nearly as tall as he was, maybe just an inch or two shorter.

“I did, we all did, actually. I like her, even if she buried my lightsaber on _Tatooine_ – I get it, I mean, her heart was in the right place and all -”

Ben could hardly hear Anakin over the thoughts spinning around in his head. First of all, Rey had spoken with his grandfather before he had which he found equal parts frustrating and hilarious. Secondly, Rey was _right_? Ben nearly laughed, of course she was, when had she ever not been right?

“I’m not dead then?” Ben asked cautiously, interrupting his grandfather’s musings on sand and its many flaws.

“Oh!” Anakin said, sounding surprised. “No, or, at least we don’t think you are.”

“You don’t _think_ I am?” Ben asked, nearly incredulous.

“We’re not sure, it’s a very strange situation. Rey’s going try and find more information. Master Yoda suspects that information on your situation may have been in the Jedi archives, but…”

“But the Jedi archives were destroyed by the Empire.” Ben finished Anakin’s thought dully.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Anakin offered his apology sheepishly, Ben merely rolled his eyes.

“Well,” Ben breathed, leaning against the solid dark wall behind him. He wasn’t dead. He truly hadn’t expected that.

“I don’t know how I’d do it.” Anakin said, leaning against the wall next to Ben.

A weight settled around them then, dark and heavy. Ben didn’t understand it, he felt like there was a realization in the air that he couldn’t quite grasp. He was _alive_ , surely that was good thing. He would get to be with Rey, make good on his promise that she would never be alone.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked, turning to his grandfather, one eyebrow quirked.

“Coming back to the light after being in the dark for so long and _living_?” Anakin shook his head, his eyes growing distant. “I can’t imagine what that would be like, I wouldn’t know where to start.” He was not smiling now, neither of them were.

Ben wasn’t dead, he was going to _live_ , and everything that meant hit him at once. Living with everything he’d done, living in a galaxy he helped throw into chaos once more. How could he do that? Memories flooded his mind, burning ransacked villages, screaming, blood, his father’s face washed in red light, the soul shattering pain of the destruction of the Hosnian system, the destruction of trillions of lives. The thoughts ripped at him with the twin knives of remorse and regret, both slashing at his soul with their white-hot blades. Physical pain coursed through his body and Ben nearly doubled over.

“What -” Ben began but was unable to finish the thought, Luckily, his grandfather seemed to understand intuitively where Ben’s mind had taken him.

“The dark side dilutes guilt, compassion, regret, remorse, shame, doubt, it doesn’t allow you to feel these things – or, at least, it doesn’t allow you to feel them as strongly.” His grandfather’s brow furrowed darkly, his eyes glossing over with memories terrible and unsettling. “It makes blood and violence and revenge taste _right_ , and then you wake up and – When you turn back to the light it’s kind of like a dam breaking, it hurts.” Anakin placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder again. “I know it does, but,” he paused, collecting his thoughts. “It’s not a bad thing, it needs to happen. It’s just a lot at once.”

Ben sunk back down to the ground, his blood on fire with pain, tears streaming down his cheeks. Images flashed in front of his eyes, pain, destruction and death all at his hands. Innocent blood stained him; how could he _live_ like this?

“How can I – I’ve done so many terrible things.” Ben sobbed. He looked at his hands. He could see the blood that covered them as clearly as if it were really there. “How am I supposed to – I don’t know how to -” He couldn’t speak anymore through his broken sobs.

“I know.” Anakin said somberly, lowering himself so that he could place his hand on Ben’s back, rubbing it in slow, comforting circles. “I know.”

“That being said,” Anakin continued softly, thoughtfully. “If I had been given the chance to live, to get to know my children in life –” His voice caught in his throat, Anakin stopped. Ben looked up at his grandfather, eyes swimming with pain and regret so deep it was unimaginable. “Even with as strange and terrible as our circumstances may have been,” he laughed thickly. “I _know_ I would have taken it.”

Ben said nothing, he couldn’t. His throat had closed, he couldn’t even breath properly. The only thing he could do was curl in on himself and let the pain wash over him, let the images and memories flood him and tear him apart piece by piece.

“It may not feel like it now, but this is a gift, Ben.” Anakin’s voice was fading, Ben could no longer feel his hand on his back. “Don’t waste it.”

Ben was alone again with only the whispers to comfort him now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rey arrive on Coruscant, meet up with some old friends and speak with the Premier of the Galactic Federation. Ben visits his childhood and Jedi training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben's part of this chapter has a lot of allusions to the 'Rise of Kylo Ren' comic, mostly just character mentions, though there are some slight spoilers. If that is something you care to avoid, skip the bit between "A vision flashed before Ben's eyes," and "The birth of Kylo Ren"!

Finn was snoring loudly from the co-pilot’s seat as the _Falcon_ dropped out of hyperspace. The shadow of a smile crept onto Rey’s features. Finn was such a sound sleeper, even the ship shuddering through the Coruscanti atmosphere was not enough to disturb his slumber.

Rey’s skin prickled as she became slowly overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of life buzzing around the planet. She had to raise her shields, dampen her connection to the force, normally so open. Trillions of beings lived on the city-covered planet, more life than there were stars in the sky, and Rey had never been comfortable here, it was one of the many reasons she left.

She reached over and gently nudged Finn’s shoulder. He snorted and sputtered as sleep left him and Rey had to suppress a laugh.

“We’re here.”

As the Federation had already been expecting them, they were quickly given permission to land in the hangar of the former Jedi Temple turned Imperial Palace turned current, though likely temporary, Galactic Federation headquarters. Poe and Rose were already waiting for them in the hangar, their faces eager and excited, wrapping both Rey and Finn in a tight four-way hug the second the entry ramp hit the ground.

“What are you two doing here?” Poe asked brightly the second the welcoming embrace ended and all four of them pulled away. “I thought you were off floating rocks on Jedi Island?” He laughed.

“Yeah, some of us floating more rocks than others.” Finn said, nudging Rey playfully in the ribs. “Were actually here on _Jedi business_.” He added, puffing up his chest slightly. Rey couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

“What?” Rose gasped, her eyes flying wide. “What’s happened?” Rey could feel the fear rolling off of both Poe and Rose. To them, Jedi business meant saving the world from some unspeakable evil.

“Oh, Finn’s making seem a bigger deal than it is.” Rey said placing a hand on her friend’s arm to soothe her. “We’re here looking for _books_.” Rey threw a chastising look at Finn who offered an apologetic smile.

As relief settled over them, Rey took in the two friends she had not seen in far too long. In her memory they were all still roughing it on Ajan Kloss, dirty and hiding from the First Order, but they looked so _clean_. Poe wore a uniform befitting a general of the army of the Galactic Federation and Rose was dressed in a soft pink suit, the tails of her jacket hanging around her ankles, apparently having left her delegate’s robes in her apartment or office. Rey knew that Rose missed the life of an engineer, but political life suited her just as well.

“What kind of books?” Poe asked, eyebrow quirked.

“We have reason to believe that some Jedi texts may have survived the Empire’s purge.” Rey explained.

“How would you know that?” Rose asked.

Rey struggled to suppress as smile as she imagined the looks on her friends faces if she were to tell them that _Darth Vader_ himself had given her that information. Before Rey could come up with a plausible reason, Poe saved her.

“Rose, I’ve found it’s best not to question anything about the Force.” Poe turned to Rose and shot her a knowing smirk. “You’re never going to get a satisfying answer.”

“We were hoping to look through the Imperial archives, do you know where those might be?”

“Um,” Rose began with a grimace. “I don’t think those are something that’s necessarily open to the public. You’ll have to speak with the Premier.”

“I’ll comm Sara, see if we can’t get you in to see Paila.” Poe stepped away, pulling his commlink up to his mouth, a smile on his mouth as he spoke.

“It is so great to see you both,” Rose said, placing one hand on Rey’s shoulder and the other on Finn’s, then she turned to Rey directly. “How have you been?” She asked pointedly. Rey wondered how tired she must have looked.

Before Rey could answer and lie to her friend by assuring her that she had been just fine, Poe, ever her savior today, strode back over to the group, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Turns out Paila wants to meet with you right away, here, I’ll bring you up to her office. She had to choose the room the furthest out of the way, of course, at the top of the highest kriffing tower.” He laughed, but his usual lighthearted nature had dulled slightly. “Gotta make sure everyone knows who’s in charge, I guess.”

“She _is_ in charge, Poe.” Rose warned, Rey suddenly felt very lost, like there was a history here she was not aware of.

“That she is,” Poe agreed flatly. For a moment, he looked like there was more he wanted to say. Instead he turned around and gestured for all of them to follow him. Lower ranking officers stopped what they were doing to salute General Dameron as he left the hangar.

Rey and Finn had been walking side by side down the hall following Poe and Rose’s lead when Rey noticed something shining on Finn’s belt. It was long and thin, silver and copper - a lightsaber. It looked like he had been trying to hide it beneath his jacket. She placed a hand on his chest, putting distance between themselves and the two ahead of them, slowing their pace slightly.

“What is that?” She hissed, pointing to the hilt on his hip. Finn’s eyes went wide when he realized what she meant.

“A lightsaber…” He admitted bashfully.

“I know what – _Where_ did you get it?” Rey asked, rolling her eyes.

“I found it, on Ahch -To.”

“You _stole_ from the Jedi temple?” Rey accused, scandalized.

“It wasn’t in the Jedi temple.” Finn explained as if that made it okay. “It was just in a storage hut on the island.”

“You stole from Master Skywalker, then.” Rey crossed her arms in front of her chest. She had seen where the Lanai caretakers had moved Luke’s things after his death. There hadn’t been much, really, a few piles of robes, a familiar looking pair of golden dice, and a silver and copper lightsaber, the design so much like Leia’s it had made her double take at the sight of it.

“It’s not like he’s using it.” Finn said, shaking his head. Rey was about to remind Finn that Luke’s things deserved more respect, but he continued the second she opened her mouth. “And I don’t have a lightsaber yet, what if I need to defend myself?”

Rey was speechless for a moment.

“Defend yourself?” Her whispered voice raising an octave or two at the ridiculousness of it all. “We’re going to a _library!_ What do you think you’ll have to defend yourself from, a rouge archivist?”

“That’s where were going now.” Finn agreed defensively. “But what about afterwards? What if we run into Sith cultists or a First Order remnant or…”

“Stop.” Rey said, holding out her hand, desperate to stop the insanity spewing from her best friend’s mouth. “Just -” She sighed, exasperated.

“When I end up needing this,” He gingerly patted the saber strapped to his side. “I’ll be sure to say ‘I told you so.’”

Poe turned and led them through a few more corridors and towards a turbolift. All four of them packed into the lift as it took them up to one of the top-most floors of the former temple. Even through the dampening of her connection to the Force, Rey felt a cold chill walking through these hallways as though the walls themselves had memories. She felt like she had when she had held Ochi’s blade – terrible things had happened here.

A young Twi’lek sat at a desk just outside of a large set of double doors, one pink lekku draped over her shoulder. She stood gracefully and smiled warmly as she noticed the group approach and gestured with one hand towards the doorway, allowing them entrance.

The Premier’s office was in a round room with windows on all sides, the mid-day sun streamed through making the place seem light and airy even if the dreadful past that haunted the Force here left it feeling stuffy and clogged. A lone desk sat in the middle of the room, with just two chairs on the opposite side. Data pads covered one side of the desk, arranged neatly.

The Premier, Paila Orum, stood as the four former Resistance fighters entered her office, she gestured for them to come closer and smiled tightly, though not unkindly. She was older than Poe, though perhaps only by a decade and she was pleasant to look at, a narrow face with delicate features. Her hair, grey before it’s time, was cut short, tightly framing her jaw, and she wore a plain head piece which matched her blue robes perfectly.

“Welcome,” the Premier said, her voice light and pleasant, a good trait for a politician. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She gestured towards the seats with a graceful wave of her hands, but Rey declined the invitation as politely as possible. She did not plan on this conversation being a long one if she could help it.

“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice, Premier Orum.” Rey said, with a slight but respectful bow of her head. “I’m sure you’re very busy, I won’t take too much of your time. We were only hoping to look through the old Imperial archives,” She gestured towards Finn, “I believe that there may be some information belonging to the old Jedi Order that may be useful in our…” Rey paused, her brain scrambling for the right word. “Studies.” She concluded lamely.

“Oh,” The Premier’s smile never faltered though her silver-grey eyes held no warmth. Rey did not know what to make of this woman. She had not been part of the Resistance, instead she was a left-over from the New Republic collapse nominated by both groups to lead the fledgling government. “Yes, I do believe my secretary mentioned something about that.” She said tightly.

Rey waited a moment, but the Premier did not continue.

“Rose – I mean, Delegate Tico, informed me that we would need your permission as the Imperial archives are not open to the public so -”

“The _Federation_ archives are not open to anyone, currently.” Premier Orum said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. “They are locked down until our archivists can sort through everything. I can have them inform you when and if they find anything pertaining to the Jedi, of course. That would be no problem.”

The Premier nodded as if that was what Rey had asked for.

“I was actually hoping we could look through them now, if that would be no trouble.” Rey said as politely as possible. Her insides squirmed with anxiety.

“That would not be possible.” The Premier responded plainly.

“I could pass your request along to the other delegates.” Rose offered helpfully.

“Yes, that would be perfectly acceptable.” Premier Orum replied. “Though, of course that could take some time.”

Rey glanced over at Rose who was nodding slowly. Rey didn’t have the time for her proposal to look through a few old holobooks to go through the collection of delegates only to be denied months down the line. She sighed.

“With all due respect, Premier Orum, those texts belonged to the Jedi Order and seeing as -”

“My apologies, Master Jedi – or, are you a master?” The Premier said, her tone light to offset the sharpness of her words. Rey felt all of the disrespect that was intended and did her best not to allow the frustration building inside of her to show on her face, a trick she was quite unskilled at. “But, at this time, the Galactic Federation recognizes the authority of _no_ Jedi Order, so, I’m afraid, being the last Jedi offers you no jurisdiction here.” The Premier was still smiling but her eyes were cold and sharp, like durasteel daggers.

Rey bit her tongue, not wanting to make a fool of herself by offending the Premier of the Galactic Federation by telling her exactly where she could shove her _authority_. Luckily, Poe was there to do it for her.

“Paila, Rey saved the galaxy last year, surely that gets her a free pass to browse the old Imperial holobook collection?” Poe’s brow was furrowed, a mirror of Rey’s own emotions. Rose’s face went white as a sheet at Poe’s outburst, Finn just curled his hands into fists.

Something flashed on the Premier’s face then that looked suspiciously close to genuine regret and sincere appreciation, but Rey was far too busy trying to cool the blood in her veins to notice.

Rey disliked Poe playing the whole ’hero of the galaxy’ card in her favor, but he wasn’t really wrong. It wasn’t even like Rey was asking for her small ‘Jedi Order’, if it could be called that, to be recognized by the Federation or for any claim on authority, she just wanted to look through some old, forgotten texts! Suddenly Rey felt she was back on Ahch-To trying to convince a stubborn old Jedi master to return to the Resistance base with her.

“Unfortunately, it does not.” The Premier said, if Rey didn’t know any better, she would think genuine sympathy was seeping into the woman’s tone. “The archives are locked, I cannot allow favoritism to anyone, no matter how heroic their deeds.” Orum’s mouth set into a straight line as she concluded.

Rey poked around in the Force. She could feel the stubborn resoluteness radiating off of the Premier. There was no changing her mind.

“This is -” Finn started, but Rey placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I understand, Premier Orum.” Rey struggled to keep her tone neutral. “I will speak with Delegate Tico about starting a proposal. Please let me know if your archivists do find anything.” If the Premier was shocked by Rey’s sudden acceptance, she did not show it. Rey’s friends on the other hand seemed very confused, Poe shaking his head at Rey slightly, his mouth agape.

“Thank you for your time.” Rey said, inclining her head slightly before turning around and leaving the Premier’s office. Her face contorting into an angered grimace the second Orum could not see her.

“What was that?” Poe asked catching up with her just outside of the Premier’s doors. She grabbed his wrist and led him further down the hall and around a corner until they were far enough away that she was confident they would not be overheard.

“Rey, what’s going on?” Finn asked as he and Rose caught up with them.

“Do you really want me to help you start a proposal?” Rose asked, slightly nervous. “My plate is already pretty full, but I would be more than happy to help if you wanted to come by my office, we could -”

Rey cut her friend off with a tight smile.

“Orum wasn’t going to change her mind, we’ll just have to find another way into the archives.” Rey said, determination building as she could feel the bond whip and snap within her.

“A heist!” Poe whispered, his eyes bright and shifting around the empty corridor conspiratorially.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Rose said, sighing, though Rey could see a sparkle of mischief in her friend’s eyes.

“We’re going to break into the Federation archives?” Finn asked, his voice barely audible.

“Yes.” Rey said decisively.

* * *

Ben stood alone in the darkness; his eyes closed. The whispers whirled around him, a storm of sound. The pull of the distant doorway became a nearly physical thing, he could feel its tendrils wrapping around his form, trying to draw him closer. He sighed, his heart sinking in a kind of resigned defeat he’d felt only once before. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still hear the temple burning around him, could hear the screams of the students trapped inside.

_I never… I didn’t want this._

_And you did not choose it, Ben. The_ Jedi _did. Skywalker._

Ben shook his head. He would not allow Snoke to invade his mind ever again, even in memory, not when he was two years dead by Ben’s own hand. Oh, how he wished he could feel pleasure from that, but everything his victory over Snoke represented was tainted by Ben’s own greed and by Sidious. Ben’s mind had been plagued by the voices of that old corpse for longer than he could remember and now even his emancipation from his supposed ‘master’ had been poisoned by the revelation that the former Supreme Leader had been nothing but a puppet, much like Ben himself, a pawn in a larger game.

Anger curled in his chest, hot and painful and familiar. He turned to the doorway, his eyes burning, dark coals blazing with dark fire. The fury that unfurled in him was painful, it always had been, but he understood this pain, he found it almost comforting, he longed to wrap himself in it. For just a second, he let his soul bathe in the violent passion he once relied on so completely. Rage sizzled through every fiber of his being and for a fleeting moment he felt like Kylo again, trapped in a prison of dark metal and furious anger.

That thought alone felt like an icy bath, Ben’s nerves cooled in an instant and he shuddered, momentarily afraid of himself. After everything how had he allowed himself to slip so easily back into that monster’s skin? He’d done it in the forest on Starkiller earlier as well, let Kylo take the reins. Fear coiled around Ben’s heart, but he did not allow himself to explore that. Instead, he rushed headlong towards the doorway, desperate for distraction from the fear and regret and remorse of his former life.

Wherever Ben was, truth be told, he was still partial to calling it ‘hell’, seemed just as eager to grant him that distraction as he was to take it. He plunged himself through the doorway, the silvery light licking at his frame with a cool touch as he did so.

Ben found himself in shockingly familiar surroundings – the living area of his family’s apartment in Hanna City. Everything looked just as he remembered from the walls lined with art to the soft white carpet to the clean, modern furniture. The room was bathed in golden-pink light from the setting sun outside.

How long had it been since he had stepped foot in this place he had once called home? He’d been fifteen, given short leave from Luke’s temple for his birthday. His mother had been busy nearly his whole visit, helping to plan a gala or ball, perhaps, to celebrate the fifteenth anniversary of the signing of the Galactic Concordance and the end of the Empire, conveniently this anniversary fell on Ben’s birthday. Han had had to leave early and had missed the celebration entirely. It was the last time Ben had asked for leave to go home.

As Ben looked around, things were not as neat and orderly as they always were in his memory. Broken dishes littered the kitchen floor, some piece of furniture, now too demolished to tell its original purpose, laid in pieces against a dented wall. Ben could hear shouting, a familiar sound in this dwelling. He followed the sound down a well-known hallway.

His parent’s door was closed but he could see light leaking through the cracks and shadows moving and the solid durasteel door did little to dampen his parent’s voices.

“He’s not well, Leia, he needs a doctor!” Han shouted; Ben’s heart twisted more at the mere sound of his father’s voice than the words he said.

“This is the Force, Han, there isn’t a doctor alive who will know how to handle that, not like Luke can.”

Ben’ jaw worked hard as his mind supplied him with just how his uncle had tried to _handle_ Ben’s particular issues.

“I’m not sending my son away to become some monk like your brother.”

“If you’re so worried about your _son_ , maybe you should spend more time at home with him!” Leia’s own personal brand of diplomatic calm slipped in the way it always seemed to do around her hot-headed husband.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, your Worship!” Han scoffed, he only called back to his wife’s royal lineage when he was well and truly worked up.

“Don’t you call me that, laserbrain!” Ben could practically see his mother’s face growing red through the thick door. “I have a _job_ , it’s not like I’m off galivanting around the galaxy just for the hell of it.”

“I’m sorry I’m not the perfect stay-at-home husband you wanted, Leia. You knew who I was when you married me.” Ben imagined his father sticking his finger in his mother’s face in a way that was infuriatingly Han Solo. “Did you even ask him what he wants to do? Does he want to go with Luke?”

“This is bigger than what any of us _want_ , Han.” Leia’s voice quieted, growing sad and resigned. “I just want what’s best for him. I can feel the darkness around him, I’m worried for him – and he could have hurt you.”

Hot, sharp pain pierced Ben’s heart at his mother’s words. His lower jaw was trembling uncontrollably with old fear and new regret.

“I dodged, Leia, I’m good at that.” Han’s voice calmed a bit.

Ben ripped himself away from his parent’s door. He couldn’t bear to listen any longer. Without thinking, he found himself headed towards his old bedroom. Ben slid the door open to find a storm.

A ten-year-old Ben sat on his bed, long arms wrapped around knobby knees, his face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair he liked to keep long to hide his ears. The boy’s chest heaved with quiet sobs. Toys and kick-knacks flew around the boy’s head without purpose, understanding, or control.

 _Why are you troubled, friend? I can sense your distress._ Snoke’s voice rang through both Bens’ heads like a roll of thunder. Ben could feel himself shaking and saw his younger self become more at ease.

“They’re fighting again.” Young Ben said aloud, too upset to simply respond to the voice in his head with just his mind.

_Oh, I’m sorry, my boy. I know how that upsets you. What is it about this time?_

Young Ben sighed and let out a pitiful sound, burying his surely tear streaked face in his arms.

“I think I messed up real bad this time.” Young Ben whined. “I got mad ‘cause my dad is leaving again and he wouldn’t let me come with him and I – I got so angry – I couldn’t control it! All the plates got smashed up and I almost hit my dad with a chair, I didn’t see him there, _I swear_!” Young Ben’s voice was frantic, he looked up and around the room at the toys that floated there, he shrieked when he saw them and they tumbled to the ground.

_You know I believe you, Ben._

“I don’t know what to do,” Young Ben cried. “I think they’re going to send me away.”

Ben approached the bed cautiously. Young Ben could not see him, he knew that, but he wished he could shake the boy, make him see that this voice in his head was _not_ his friend. Make him see that he was being manipulated, groomed for terrible, awful things he could never take back.

 _Send you away, what do you mean?_ Ben could hear the sick pleasure in Snoke’s voice. He wondered if it really was Snoke or if it had actually been Palpatine in his younger years and his head started to throb.

“To train with my uncle, Luke. They said he could help me control it, but I don’t want to leave! I don’t want to be a Jedi!”

 _No, I don’t blame you._ Snoke crooned. _I’m sorry to say this, friend, but it sounds to me like they are_ afraid _of you._

“What?” Young Ben squeaked.

 _Through no real fault of your own, my boy._ Snoke reassured him, his deep voice a nauseating purr. _They are afraid of your power, of your potential. They don’t understand you, how could they? They see what you could become and, foolishly, they fear it. Those without power are terrified of those who possess it, my dear friend – I am_ not _afraid of you._

Young Ben did not respond, he buried himself under his blankets and wept.

The scene changed around Ben, colors whipped and swirled, and he felt dizzy. He closed his eyes to stem the nausea, when he opened them again, he found himself in the grassy clearing outside of Luke’s temple on Yavin IV which served as sparring grounds.

He saw an older Ben, maybe eighteen, it was hard to say, his wooden stave pressed against the practice blade of another Padawan, a young woman of about the same age, Voe. She pushed hard against his blade; her face contorted in frustration. Young Ben merely smirked at the girl. Ben had always been Luke’s strongest student and Voe had always been jealous of his connection to the Force. On particularly bad days, Ben had liked to rub it in.

He shrugged her off easily and Voe tumbled back but regained her footing quickly.

“Tai, Hennix, give me some help!” Voe called out to the two students behind her. The young Quarren, Hennix, jumped in quickly pulling his own stave towards him via the Force, but Tai stayed back.

“Come on, Voe, three on one is hardly fair!” The young man called out, worry etched on his face. Tai had always been kind, compassionate and patient. _He would have been a great Jedi_ , Ben thought mournfully.

“Don’t worry about me, Tai.” Young Ben called out with a laugh; his posture relaxed in stark contrast to the two students circling him. “I can handle it. I’m just glad Voe realizes she can’t take me without help.”

The young woman growled and rushed Young Ben, her white braids flying behind her. She jumped up, calling on the force to propel her higher, her blade raised high above her head. Ben laughed as he blocked her, their blades hitting each other with a loud _thwack_ , throwing her down onto the ground with a hard thud. Hennix came around from the right and Young Ben whipped around to meet his strike. _Thwack!_

Young Ben reached out with the Force; his blade still locked against the wooden blade of the Quarren. He let the tendrils of the Force wrap themselves around the body of his opponent, freezing him. He threw the padawan back onto the ground, though he took care not to throw him hard enough to hurt, not really.

“ _Ben_ ,” Luke chastised from the side lines.

“What?” Young Ben called from over his shoulder. Use of the Force was a legitimate tactic in lightsaber combat.

Distracted by his uncle, Ben nearly missed Voe’s attack on his left, but he whirled around to meet her, _thwack_ , pushing hard into her stave’s blade, dropping her to her knees. He had to jump out of the way when Hennix rushed him. He met the Quarren’s attack and knocked the blade from his grip. Young Ben grabbed the second stave as it fell and held it in his off hand.

He whipped around to meet Voe who was charging again, he used both blades to push back against her. _Thwack, thwack, thwack!_ The hard hits of wood on wood rang through the sparring grounds. The chorus of their blades clashing was so loud they had drawn a crowd out from the temple to watch their match. Voe was relentless, coming at Young Ben with all she had, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Ben trapped the blade of Voe’s stave in between both of his, trapping her momentarily. He then took that opportunity to kick out with his right foot, hitting her in the stomach, knocking her onto her back and her weapon from her hand. He lowered both blades towards her chest.

A vison flashed before Ben’s eyes, Voe on her back before him, a red lightsaber – _Ren_ ’s lightsaber – run through her chest, the life leaving her eyes. The original Master of the Knights, had been Ben’s first ‘good kill’, Ren had called it, one you wanted, Hennix hadn’t counted. Voe had been his second.

_Ben… You killed him. You killed the Knight’s master. Ren._

_Of course I did. I’m a_ murderer _, remember?_

_You’re not a Jedi, Voe, and you never will be. There’s no one left to train you._

_No… Oh no…_

_Why do you even want to live?_

The death of Voe.

The death of Ben Solo.

The birth of Kylo Ren.

“Yield?” Young Ben asked with a cock-sure grin. He tossed Hennix’s wooden stave back to its owner and used his off hand to flick a bit of imaginary dust from his shoulder, a gesture Luke would later use to taunt his nephew on Crait. Ben bristled at the sight of it even now.

Voe said nothing. She scrunched her face up at him and scrambled to her feet, collecting her stave which had fallen to the ground. Tai, who had never joined the fight, shook his head, but he was clearly suppressing a laugh.

“Ben,” Luke placed a hand on Young Ben’s shoulder, the younger man grimaced, well versed in the lecture he was about to receive. “Showboating is not the way of the Jedi.” His uncle smiled and his blue eyes glinted with a hint of humor. “And try to go easy on your fellow students.” Luke added with a whisper meant only for his nephew.

“Why?” Ben asked, rounding on his uncle. “Darksiders won’t go easy – the _Knights of Ren_ wouldn’t go easy on them! Isn’t that what we’re training for? To fight _them_?” Ben and his uncle had met the knights on a mission years ago and they had been at the forefront of Ben’s mind ever since.

 _Kid, you ever want to try something different, learn more about your shadow… come look us up_. And years later, Ben had done just that.

“We don’t train to fight, Ben, we train to defend. The Jedi are meant to be peacekeepers, not warriors.” Luke said with a serious frown. Young Ben rolled his eyes.

“Sometimes you have to fight to defend, right?” Young Ben asked, furrowing his brow. “You blew up the Death Star to _defend_ the Rebel Alliance, you fought Darth Vader to _defend_ the galaxy!” Ben argued. Luke Skywalker blanched at the mention of his father, his mechanical hand working beside him nervously, but Young Ben hardly noticed. “Did Darth Vader go easy on you?”

“You aren’t going to be fighting Darth Vader, Ben.” Luke said flatly, his blue eyes lost to visions of the past.

“No, but we should be training like we will be!” Young Ben’s off hand curled into a fist. “You never know when the next Darth Vader wannabe is going to –”

“I think that’s enough for today.” Luke said, his tone dripping with finality. Young Ben glowered at his master but did not argue.

Ben’s vision began to swim again, he blinked rapidly. When the world solidified, it was clear that he was still in the Jedi temple. He was in the dining hall. Normally, students would be scattered about, chatting idly among their friends, but today nearly everyone was gathered around one table, whispering heatedly. He made a step to approach when the door swung open. Ben knew this day, remembered it with startling clarity. It was burned into his memory like a brand.

An even older Ben, about twenty-three-years-old, entered the hall, light streaming in behind him, and the room fell deathly quiet. Tai, who had been in amongst the large group of padawans shot up and rushed over to Young Ben, placing a hand on the taller boy’s chest.

“Hey, Ben, I think Master Skywalker was looking for you,” Tai began with a strained smile. Though he was across the room from them, Ben could practically feel Tai’s hand on him now, trying to lead him away from the chaos – but chaos had always called to Ben. “Let’s go find him.”

Young Ben looked at his friend quizzically before noticing the large group of students staring at him with rapt attention. No one spoke save for the occasional whisper Young Ben could not make out. It was clear they were looking at something.

“What’s going on over there?” Young Ben asked, trying to shake Tai off. Tai’s insistence that they leave only growing by the second, the young man’s blue eyes flashed with warning as Ben tried to approach the group.

“Nothing, man, they’re all just being idiots, let’s go find Master –”

Young Ben pushed his friend off and charged headlong into his doom, Tai stumbled behind, desperate to stop him. The students were gathered around a datapad. As Young Ben drew nearer, the other padawans skittered back. Some, especially the younger ones, watched him carefully. He could feel their fear and confusion radiating off of them in the force.

He picked the datapad up. Tai tried to rip it from his grasp, kept up his insistence that they needed to go see Luke, but Young Ben couldn’t hear him anymore.

SCANDAL IN THE SENATE! The headline read. PRINCESS LEIA SKYWALKER ORGANA SOLO… VADER? _The New Republic Senator’s_ true _parentage revealed in shocking…_ But Young Ben couldn’t read anymore, his vision had gone fuzzy, his breathing came in sharp bursts. He threw the datapad to the ground where it sparked and broke. A few students behind him let out an audible gasp, he whirled around to look at them.

Their eyes were wide, a few trembled – but Young Ben was trembling too. This couldn’t be real, it had to be a dream. His family wouldn’t keep this from him, it couldn’t be true. He could hear his fellow student’s whispers; he could hear their thoughts.

_No wonder he’s so angry all the time._

_It makes so much sense._

_I was always afraid of him, have you seen how he fights?_

_I could sense the shadow in him._

Anakin Skywalker had become Darth Vader, Darth Vader was Luke and Leia’s father, Darth Vader was Ben’s _grandfather_. The students were afraid of his family, they were afraid of him… _everyone_ was afraid of him. If Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Clone Wars, could become such a monster, what would his sullen, stormy, quick to anger grandson become?

Young Ben ran from the temple, he ran straight to his hut and locked himself inside. He had heard Tai calling after him, but Young Ben had ignored his friend. Ben’s mother had sent him a message, a _message_! She clearly hadn’t considered this revelation important enough to warrant a visit or even a call. He never ended up listening to that message and wondered for years what she might have said.

Luke had been at his door minutes after the scene in the dining hall, desperate to speak with Ben, but he couldn’t talk to anyone, no one but Snoke.

Ben could hear his younger self’s thoughts, or maybe he just remembered them. Snoke had been right all along. They were afraid of him and this was _why_. They could see the darkness inside of him, his grandfather’s legacy. They could see that he was meant to follow in Vader’s footsteps, that he was built for it. Snoke understood, Snoke had known all along and was still his friend. He could go to Snoke, but he couldn’t abandon his family, could he?

The choice was made for him by his uncle late one night only weeks later. Young Ben awoke to his master and uncle standing over him, green lightsaber held aloft, crazed look in his eyes, murderous intent clear on his face and in the Force that surrounded him.

“Ben, no!” Luke had cried out as Young Ben had defended himself.

Those words echoed around in the nothingness as Ben was shoved from the memory and back into the void.

Ben just stood there as the quiet whispers engulfed him once again. Normally these visons left him feeling angry or terribly broken, now, he just felt naïve, embarrassed, stupid and strangely hollow. He’d allowed himself to be so thoroughly manipulated and controlled, had any point in his life ever truly been his own?

Yes. A smile crept onto his face as he remembered Rey in his arms, his life dragging hers back from the great beyond. He had chosen to bring her back. It had not been part of a larger plot, had not been the scheme of some hidden master lurking in the shadows, it had been all Ben and it was the one good choice he had made in a lifetime of terrible ones, one he could be proud of – nothing could take that from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! 😊

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to update this every few days or at least once a week until it's done. I really hope you enjoyed reading this, thanks! 😊


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